


Descent

by bang-the-smoke (708_things)



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, 未来日記 | Mirai Nikki | Future Diary
Genre: Alternate Universe - 未来日記 | Mirai Nikki | Future Diary Fusion, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Falling In Love, M/M, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22226644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/708_things/pseuds/bang-the-smoke
Summary: “The winner of this game takes over my place as God.”Richie, along with eleven other future diary owners, compete in a battle royale to win the title of God. After creating an alliance with Eddie, the second diary owner, he feels a little more confident about his survival. What does it take to really become God? How far will everyone go?or: Future Diary AU.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 27
Kudos: 24





	1. The Game

**Author's Note:**

> yoo im so excited for this! after rewatching the anime with my sister, i really wanted to make a fic. it'll pick up soon, as this one's like the introduction to what's really going on. it's not necessary to watch the anime to understand this story.
> 
> enjoy!

“As you may have guessed, your diary has the ability to tell the future,” the God explained, a patient look on his face. “Of course, they don’t all work the same. Each diary reflects the personality of it’s owner. It’s connected to their owner’s lifeline. If the owner’s diary breaks, the owner dies.”

Richie wanted to look down, check his apparently powerful phone, but his eyes were fixated on Deus. The god began to explain the purpose of this game of his was to survive, to outlive the others. He looked around at the silhouettes of his competitors, intimidated. From what he could tell, all of them were teenagers, which was horrifying.

He was only sixteen. A normal sixteen year old wouldn’t be in a battle to the death. “What does the winner get?” A girl with fiery red hair asked, raising her hand to get Deus’ attention.

“Excellent question, seventh,” Deus complimented, which made Richie shiver. He couldn’t believe they were reduced to numbers. “The winner of this game takes over my place as God.”

The girl dropped her hand, a pleased smile on her face. It was obvious that every contestant was intrigued by the idea of becoming God. Richie, himself, couldn’t deny how alluring it was. He could imagine himself now, sitting on the throne Deus was on now, power at his fingertips. Despite the allure, he knew how unlikely it was for him to win.

A few minutes later, he saw the others fade away from his view, and he soon was greeted with the familiarity of his room in his home. Richie glanced down at his phone, taking a look into the future, based on the entries.

_1/9/20XX_

_7:50 AM: The walk to school is boring. I tell a joke about the boy next to me looking like Rick Astley. He laughs too._

_9:30 AM: I try to tell a joke, but Mrs. Bunce shushes me before I can say it. A shame!_

_11:25 AM: Mr. Wise falls during his boring history lecture. I make fun of it, but nobody laughs. Well, that’s a miss._

And those were all the entries Richie could see at the moment. His diary was probably the worst one for the game. How could jokes help him survive against eleven other diary owners? From the way Deus explained it, each future diary was able to tell the future, and the way the diary worked was based on how the owner used their diary before it was able to predict the future. Richie had used his phone to write jokes down, observing others reaction to it.

“Well, fuck me,” Richie sighed to himself, getting ready for school. Now that he thought about it, there was a chance that another diary owner went to his high school. Deus hadn’t been specific on how far away the owners are from each other, so for all they knew, all of them are in America.

The school day starts off just like his diary predicts. On the walk over, he’s close by a boy that does resemble Rick Astley. “Damn,” Richie whistled. “Never gonna give you up, huh?” He nudged the other boy.

The other boy laughed. “I get that a lot,” he said. “It never gets old.”

Sometimes, Richie felt a bit guilty just repeating the jokes he saw in his diary. But then again, all the jokes are technically based on his thoughts, so who’s to say he wouldn’t naturally think that boy looks like Rick Astley?

In second period, Mrs. Bunce talked about a random anecdote from her days in college. She often reminisced her past during class time, but nobody dared to stop her because it cuts back on how long they spend actually doing work. It seemed like Mrs. Bunce could detect when Richie was about to jump into her story, so when a couple words fell from his lips, she shushed him. “If you want to talk, you have to raise your hand,” she reminded him.

It was clear that she wasn’t going to allow him to talk anyway. Richie sighed. He didn’t even get the first half of the joke done. He wasn’t exactly sure why he tried to challenge the future.

In fourth period, things didn’t go as planned. Mr. Wise was going on and on about the Great Depression of the 1920’s. He was one of those teachers that was overly enthusiastic about their subject, leading to the students being vaguely uncomfortable. During one of his fanatic rants, he slipped. Richie saw the opportunity, even though his diary told him that nobody was going to appreciate it. “Mr. Wise’s fallen, and he can’t get up,” Richie joked, snickering.

And somebody laughed.

Richie’s eyes widened. That wasn’t supposed to happen! Nobody was supposed to find that funny! Before he can even think about what means, his phone made a crackling noise. It’s louder than he expected, as if another phone crackled too.

“Mr. Tozier, your phone is supposed to be silenced during class,” Mr. Wise reminded him. “I’ll allow you to silence it now.”

Richie nodded absentmindedly, pulling out his phone. He read his entries, before silencing his phone.

_11:25 AM: Mr Wise falls during his boring history lecture. I make fun of it. One boy laughs._

_12:10 PM: Second found me. He doesn’t think I’m very funny. Well, fuck you too, Second._

Why did the future change?

“Mr. Wise,” a voice spoke up, timidly. Richie turned his head to acknowledge him, but he wasn’t focused. “I think my phone’s still on, too. Can I turn mine off?”

“Sure,” Mr. Wise sighed. The other boy turned his phone off as well.

Richie was distracted for the rest of the class period. Second was going to confront him during his lunch block. Did that mean he was going to have to defend himself? Richie wasn’t sure how that would work in a school environment.

After Mr. Wise’s class was over, Richie savored his lunch, thinking it could be his last. During about the last ten minutes of lunch, someone decided to sit next to him. “Hey, Tozier,” the boy said. He recognized his voice as the same boy who also turned off his phone. And he was the one who laughed, wasn’t he?

“Second?”


	2. The Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie strikes up an alliance with Eddie, and finds out he's in danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i'm so sorry that it took me so long to update! i'm busy sometimes, and tbh i'm still working on plotting the fic out. but i know the ending, and that's what matters.
> 
> any guesses on who eighth and ninth are?

“I also go by Eddie, but that works too,” the boy replied. He was a short and rather innocent looking teenager. Richie couldn’t imagine him taking part in the game, but it’s not like they had a choice in the matter. Yet, he knew he needed to keep his guard up.

“You know, it’s quite brave of you,” Richie muttered, gazing around the room. “Such an open space…”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb,” Richie snapped. “You’re going to try to kill me. I mean, you found me! What else would you do?”

Suddenly, Eddie was cackling. He was bent over, laughing as if he had never heard something so humorous. Richie felt a pang in his chest; he loved seeing people laugh, especially with him, but that wasn’t even a joke. What was so fucking funny? “What?!”

Eddie straightened up and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. Richie faintly noticed how red his cheeks were. “ _Dude._ Why would I kill you?”

“Isn’t that the point?” Richie frowned.

Apparently the other boy took pity on him. He took out his phone, allowing Richie to see the screen and see the latest entries in his diary. The one that stuck out the most was written just minutes after he caught Richie in Mr. Wise’s class.

_11:28 AM: 100% chance Tozier’s a diary owner. 5% chance he’s dangerous._

Richie was a bit envious. His diary seemed a lot more helpful than his own. “Okay, so I’m useless. And?”

“And,” Eddie spoke slowly, “that means we could work together. Like, an alliance.”

An alliance? Was that even allowed? Richie wondered about the possibility of being disqualified, but since Deus is a god, surely he would know alliances would form. He shook his head. It was such a complicated mess, but one thing was certain. There was no way Richie was going to win the game without help, so an alliance would only be beneficial.

“That does seem like a good idea,” Richie agreed. “You seem smart, so I guess I’ll work with you.”

Eddie smiled. It was the kind of smile that felt carefree, and managed to make people’s days without even thinking about it. “Thanks, Tozier.”

Both of their phones crackled. He smiled back at the other boy. “You can call me Richie, actually. It feels like I’m in trouble when people call me Tozier.”

Richie didn’t really need to check his phone. He knew why the future changed; initially, there was going to be some kind of confrontation, but Eddie’s sudden suggestion of an alliance changes things.

“Well, Richie,” Eddie said, “if your diary does what I think it does, it’s terrible.”

“I’m sorry,” Richie retorted, “are you telling me I was supposed to be prepared to murder other people? Damn.”

“No,” Eddie chuckled. “But it’s just that your jokes are kind of terrible.” Apparently the future had changed, but Eddie’s opinion about his jokes was just always going to stay the same.

“Fuck you, dude,” Richie shook his head. “It takes a lot of effort!”

“Does it?”

“Yes!”

The lunch period ended, and the two didn’t really see each other until the end of the day. Unfortunately, Eddie was a bus rider, so they had to keep their conversation short. “We really need to talk about the game,” Richie sighed. He wasn’t really a fan of such serious topics.

Eddie agreed, nodding his head. “Yeah. I’m not sure how we’ll be able to do it, be able to…” He didn’t finish his thought, but he didn’t have to. Richie was already thinking about that too. How were they going to even find the other diary owners, let alone kill them?

There was always the possibility that they could just let themselves be found by the others first, but that wasn’t really advantageous. Richie knew jack shit about the other diary owners, so who knows if they even have their hesitations about murder? What if the others are badass?

A moment of silence passed between them. Eddie was anxiously checking that the bus was still there, so Richie offered, “You should probably get going…”

“Right, yeah,” Eddie said. “My mom would kill me if I missed it.”

“Sounds awful,” he replied. Although, he mused, it was nice to be fussed over. His parents didn’t really care about him like that anymore. “So, uh… We can talk more tomorrow?”

“Yes, that works. So, I’ll see you?”

“Bye, Eddie,” Richie smiled. Something told him he could really get used to this, being allies with Eddie.

“Bye,” Eddie smiled back, waving before turning to head onto the bus. Then, he was left on his own, walking back to his home.

The walk was familiar, but always struck him with a feeling of loneliness. He was so used to being around people during the school day, joking and laughing around with the others who would even allow it. Going back home just made him feel off.

“Hi, dad,” he said, as he entered, slamming the door shut behind him. His dad sat in the living room, and can definitely hear him from there. “I’m home!”

“That’s nice, Richie,” he said, distantly.

“I made a new friend today!” Richie added, then proceeded to give his dad some more details. “His name’s Eddie! He doesn’t like my jokes, but I like how he looks when he laughs. I guess I’ll just try harder!”

“Mhm,” his dad said, still focusing on the television in front of him. “Maybe you should go up to your room?”

“Okay,” he gleefully responded, dropping his stuff off in the kitchen before heading up to his room. He chuckled as he fell onto his bed. “Man, he says that every day! Never gets old.”

But his laughter didn’t last long. He guessed that it didn’t really matter what his dad said to him, as long as he spoke to him at all. He’d take anything over silence. When it was quiet, and the familiar emptiness leaked in, he wondered why he was the only one who found life funny.

With a blink of an eye, the canvas of his room faded away and he was back on his pedestal. Deus was in the center again, and the other diary owners slowly appeared on their pedestals. Richie still couldn’t see them distinctly, as he was only greeted with their silhouettes. When he turned to his side, he made out the shape of Eddie, who was second, and therefore, right next to him. He tried to send him a friendly smile, but Eddie seemed focused on Deus, determination in his eyes.

“As you might have guessed,” Deus said, “the first points of contact have been made. I’m here to clarify a few things.”

Fourth raised his hand, gathering Deus’ attention. “Yes, Fourth?”

“Are all the diary owners in the same country?” he questioned. “It seems like we’ve got to be, or else the game would take too long.”

Deus smiled. All of the diary owners were clearly thinking, clearly interested in the game. He knew what was to pass, and knew this was only the beginning. Knowing Fourth already had his answer, He said, vaguely, “The diary owners are closer than they might appear.”

That was certainly true. Richie hadn’t expected such a thing when he was here on his pedestal the first time, but that was before he found out Eddie, the second diary owner, went to the same school as him. He wouldn’t assume that any others would attend their school as well, but he had a feeling they were close. As he looked around the circle again, he remembered that they could be anyone. And they might not be as friendly as Eddie was.

“I’ll periodically call you in as other diary owners meet their Dead Ends,” Deus explained. “Just so none of you are kept in the dark. I’m sure some of you, by now, have seen a ‘Dead End’ message.”

Richie saw some diary owners nod, and he was quite happy when he saw Eddie didn’t. Dead Ends seemed to be a negative thing, so he was glad Eddie hasn’t gone through anything bad.

“When you are reaching the end of your life, you will receive an entry declaring your Dead End. However,” Deus paused, to emphasize His point, “as diary owners, you have the chance to escape your Dead End. You were blessed with the ability to change the future, and the winner of this game will be able to utilize that ability to their advantage.”

So this was how the game was going to become interesting. Richie chuckled, and avoided the looks the other diary owners gave him. It wasn’t his fault he found the humor in the situation.

“First,” a diary owner called out. He turned to look at him. It was Eighth, and he seemed sure of himself and cocky as he declared, “We’re coming for you first. We’ll go in order, you see.”

“We?” Richie questioned, realizing that Eighth had accidentally revealed he was in an alliance with another owner.

From beside him, Ninth looked pissed. “You’re such a fucking dumbass, Eighth,” he sneered.

“Yeah, okay, Ninth,” Eighth said, rolling his eyes. “You talk big when I almost killed you the other day.”

Ninth laughed, and punched his shoulder lightly. “Honestly dude, I was just testing you. I would’ve totally demolished you.”

What the fuck was going on? This wasn’t funny!

Eighth and Ninth stopped talking after that, but the threat they made was pretty clear. They were going to go after him, together. Richie could only find one positive thing about this situation.

He looked back over at Eddie, who was already looking at him. At least he wouldn’t be alone.

That distinct thought was still running through his head when he was greeted with the blue wallpaper of his room.

Maybe he’d die to Eighth and Ninth, but he was more alone in life than he would be in death.


	3. Grenades and Knives lead to Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Eddie experience their first Dead End and meet Seventh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spring break's coming soon so i'll make sure to have chapter four come out faster.

Richie and Eddie were both terrified about the threat Eighth and Ninth had made. They were discussing their situation as soon as they met up again that weekend. They were in a coffee shop, hands wrapped around mugs as they discussed the potential of their future deaths. “Dude, I’m so fucked,” Richie sighed.

“You think you are?” Eddie scoffed. “I mean, both of us are. Chances are, we’ll be together once they attack us, anyway. And I’m next.”

Richie liked to think he was a good person, liked to think he would be able to help Eddie. Sure, he cared about his own survival, and he hasn’t known Eddie for that long, but he’d like to think that he would try to protect his friend in that situation. “I can… distract them, so you can run away,” he offered. It was a weak offer, both knowing he wouldn’t be able to stall for long anyway.

“I can’t do that. I can’t just… let you throw your life away. That’s not right.” Eddie gazed at him, confident in his beliefs. Determination was swirling in his eyes again, just like back in the meeting with Deus. Sometimes, Richie had the feeling Eddie was more powerful than at first glance. He might not be physically strong, but there’s something about his spirit that was unique and powerful.

But it wasn’t like there was much Richie wanted to live for, anyway. His parents ignore him and he’s isolated from his peers, despite being their entertainment. At least Eddie’s mother cared for him, and would probably miss him if he were gone. “Then, I guess we’ll just have to learn how to fight,” he replied.

“Good idea.” Eddie nodded curtly. He finished up his cup of coffee. “Anything useful in your diary?”

Richie frowned. “Probably not,” he said, but decided it was best he checked it anyway. All it contained were some lame jokes, most of them not landing. Apparently, at 1:32 PM, he’d have a new audience member, and this person fake-laughed at his joke. People don’t appreciate jokes these days, he guessed. “Yeah, there’s nothing.”

“Mine says I’m going to encounter Seventh today,” Eddie announced, as if that wasn’t something that he should have been mentioned earlier. “I wonder why yours didn’t tell you that?”

Richie thought about it for a second, but it became clear to him quickly. Maybe he just doesn’t recognize them as Seventh, so it doesn’t stick out in his entries? “Well, I guess sometimes the entries aren’t specific. What time does your diary say you encounter Seventh?”

“Around 1:20 PM.”

“Oh!” Richie gasped. “I think you meet them first. My entries go from 10:00 AM, and then there’s one at 1:32 PM.”

Eddie’s brown eyes lit up in excitement. “Then we should just make sure we don’t split up around then.” He smiled and nudged Richie’s shoulder. “Maybe having both diaries can have advantages, even though yours really only tells jokes.”

Their phones crackled simultaneously. Richie assumed it was because sticking together would alter their meeting with Seventh. And it did, but the glance he took at his phone screen filled him with dread. The words ‘Dead End’ were glaring at him. He looked over at Eddie. All previous indications of happiness etched onto his face were wiped away, with horror causing his skin to pale, and the shock causing him to drop his jaw.

He wasn’t sure why, but his own fear only became worse when he saw Eddie look so afraid. “You got it too?” Eddie breathlessly questioned. He didn’t see determination in his eyes anymore.

“Yeah,” Richie nodded. In a rush to comfort him, he added, “We can change this! We can win against Seventh.” But even he wasn’t so convinced.

Both of them knew that they should get prepared in any way they could. They decided they needed to get some kind of weapon that they would be comfortable using. Eddie immediately suggested that they go over to Richie’s place, as his mother would definitely notice objects being missing from her home.

Richie’s mother was home at the time, but she didn’t pay them any mind. “Come this way,” Richie said, guiding him over to the kitchen. “We don’t have any guns in the house, but I guess we can use some knives.”

“Okay.” Eddie opened the drawer and pulled out knives for them, making sure they were sharp and able to hurt someone. He handed one over to Richie. “Do you think we should take a few? We might not have a chance to come back for more weapons.”

“I guess it’s the safer choice.”

Richie tried saying goodbye to his mother before they left, but it seemed like she just wasn’t in the mood to pay attention. “Is she always like that?”

“Like what?” Richie asked defensively, crossing his arms. He wasn’t sure if Eddie would understand it. It seemed like his mother loved him, so this was probably a strange situation for him. But he knew it was perfectly normal.

Sensing his mood, Eddie shook his head. “Nevermind. Let’s get going.”

The two left the house, checking the time as they made their way back to where the coffee shop was. They knew the confrontation with Seventh was taking place soon, but they didn’t know where it would be. Neither of their diaries were helpful in that aspect. However, it was easy to assume that a fight wouldn’t happen around other people, so they wearily walked into an alley that was on the corner of the street.

Smoke enveloped the alley, leading the two diary owners to assume Seventh had joined them, and with a smoke grenade, no less. Eddie grabbed his hand blindly, and coughed repeatedly into his elbow. Richie was immediately concerned, because the smoke was irritating, but it certainly wasn’t affecting him like that.

A knife flew by Richie’s ear, which his eyes followed. Apparently Seventh wasn’t a good shot. “I think you can do better than that,” he chuckled. “Isn’t seven supposed to be a lucky number?”

The smoke cleared a moment later, allowing them to see Seventh. Seventh was a girl with fiery red hair, and she was scowling. She opened her mouth, as if to retort to his joke, but Eddie interrupted her. “Dude, that was not fair! I have fucking asthma, I could’ve died!”

That was new information for Richie. “Isn’t that the point?” Seventh scoffed. “There’s no mercy in this game, Second.”

“That’s fucked up.” Eddie shook his head. “Our turn!” He nodded his head to Richie, who pulled out a knife from his pocket and threw it at Seventh. Seventh braced for it, dodging it, but the knife Eddie threw only seconds later surprised her. The knife landed in her left shoulder.

The mood instantly shifted. Seventh was staring at her injured shoulder with wide eyes. It seemed like the blood intimidated her. The flow wasn’t quick, but she was stunned that she had even been hit. She looked back up at them, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t have to kill you guys,” she said.

“It seems like you _can’t_ , actually,” Richie laughed. Maybe he was a little bit cocky, since they had come into this fight with no expectations and they had won.

Seventh rolled her eyes. “You guys won’t be confident for long. Eighth and Ninth are coming for you, and they’re reckless enough to kill you guys at any cost.”

She wasn’t wrong. Eighth and Ninth were confident, and maybe a little arrogant, but they must have reasons to feel that way. They were probably very strong and definitely wouldn’t be discouraged as easily as Seventh was.

“I don’t think I’ll see you two again,” Seventh said. “You may have won the battle, but not the war. I, Beverly Marsh, will win this game and become God.” Then, she retreated from the scene, with each of their phones crackling.

Once she was gone, Eddie turned to Richie. “We make a great team. I mean, we just avoided a Dead End!”

His enthusiasm made him grin. “Yeah. It was like I knew exactly how you wanted that to go.” Both of them were definitely happy with avoiding death, but the threat didn’t disappear. It was strange to them why Beverly would try to fight them, since she already knew Eighth and Ninth were coming for them.

Her final statement made it clear, though. She really wanted to become God, and she might even be bloodthirsty. She didn’t seem to care about killing them. Richie was sure that if she were able to hit them with the knives, she would’ve went for a more fatal location. She probably would’ve aimed for the chest, while Eddie’s first instinct was to go for her shoulder.

“If we stick together, we can win,” Eddie said. “Then, when it’s just the two of us…”

Richie’s grin faded. It hadn’t really crossed his mind what would happen if they made it that far. “We can just have a fair fight between us?” he offered. “No smoke grenades.”

Eddie smiled. “That’d be great. Beverly was really being an asshole with that one.” The two laughed together, finding some humor in such a terrifying situation.

They may have avoided a Dead End, but they knew there was more to come. Richie checked his phone, just out of curiosity. His hand shook as he read one of his entries from later that day.

_5:45 PM: Seems like Twelfth wasn’t CUT out for this!_

Does that mean… Twelfth will die? Does that mean Richie will see it happen?

Maybe he and Eddie had avoided their Dead Ends, but Twelfth wasn’t able to. 


	4. Twelfth's Demise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Eddie have to accept the fact that they can't help Twelfth escape their Dead End. They can only watch as Eighth and Ninth kill them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: violence and character death.  
> updates will be coming in a more reasonable timespan now!

Richie quickly showed his diary to Eddie, allowing him to read the entry about Twelfth. Eddie jumped to the same conclusion as he did, his face paling as it settled in. “We have to do something about this!” Eddie declared, throwing his hands into the air. “I mean, we can’t just let it happen!”

However, Richie wasn’t so sure. “But it won’t lead to our Dead Ends…”

“I don’t care!” he snapped. Eddie proceeded to pace around, his hands gripping his head as he murmured to himself about a plan. “We can just… distract them! Just, we can do something.”

“Eds…” Richie trailed off, biting his lip. He was pretty sure Eddie knew the truth about their situation, how going out of their way to help Twelfth probably would lead to their death. When they don’t intervene, according to Richie’s diary, neither of them die. He doesn’t really think there’s a reason to get in the middle of that.

Eddie pulled out his phone again, checking his entries. He sighed deeply after reading them, putting his phone back into his pocket. “It’s too risky, isn’t it?” Richie guessed.

“About a five percent chance that all of us survive, including Twelfth.” And yet, that didn’t make it any easier for the two of them to ignore the distressing messages in their phones. Both knew Twelfth was going to die, and could only hope the diary owner could get themself out of the mess.

They finally got out of the alley they confronted Seventh in, silence filling the air. Sometimes, Richie felt like they didn’t need to talk to communicate. He wouldn’t know how to explain it to anyone else, but he felt like he could look at Eddie and have maybe a sixty-seven percent chance of guessing what he was thinking of. In a world where he feels like the outsider, it’s comforting.

They don’t talk much at all until five PM hits, at which both boys know it’s time to get serious. “You think it’s going to happen in the park?”

Richie considered it before shaking his head. “The field’s the safer option. I mean, we have to assume they’re not dumbasses.” It’s stupid enough to get Eddie to laugh, and with him already laughing, it’s easy for Richie to join in.

“Yeah, the winner of this game better not be a dumbass,” Eddie joked along. “God’s a pretty important title, you know?”

Then, after wandering over into an open field, admittedly like dumbasses, they proceeded to try to find some sort of hiding spot. The field was covered in tall grass and sunflowers, with some bushes scattered around. “You think one of these bushes is going to be enough to cover two teenagers?” Richie questioned.

“Not really.” Then, Eddie pointed to one of the bushes that was a couple feet away from them. “My diary thinks that one is the safest choice, though it’ll only be safe if we’re silent.”

“That’s easy peasy, Eds.” He smiled, throwing an arm around him. “Come on, I’m always silent.”

Eddie gave him a confused look. It was a mixture between being baffled and shocked, but it also had an element of ‘that’s-bullshit’ to it. “Are we talking about the same fucking person? Richie Tozier being quiet? I’d love to see the day.”

Richie mimed zipping his lips shut and putting the key into his pocket, to which the other boy rolled his eyes. The two proceeded to walk over to the bush, with Richie moving some of the leaves around so Eddie could enter first. “Ladies first!”

“God, you’re fucking annoying,” Eddie grumbled, but didn’t otherwise complain. He made his way into the bush and got as comfortable as he could before allowing Richie to join. It was a tight fit, like they had originally thought it would be.

Moments later, a voice rang into the air. The voice seemed far away, and they couldn’t see the owner of the voice close by. “Audra, you need to stop talking,” the boy complained. “When we agreed to this alliance with you, we didn’t know you were such a noisy bitch.”

A female voice joined in, presumably Audra, saying some apologizes. Another boy’s voice rang in, anger in his voice. “Henry, I think we should _make_ her shut up.”

Eddie froze from beside him, so he pressed closer to him in an attempt to comfort him.

“No!” Audra shouted. “I’ll shut up, I’m sorry!”

Henry considered the other boy’s words. “That might be a good idea. She hasn’t been very helpful to us.”

Audra continued shouting things, but both boys practically ignored her. It was as if she was insignificant, and even below them. Richie couldn’t imagine being so brutal with any of the other diary owners; there was no need to treat them like this, to tease them with their death. He glanced down at his phone and flinched. It was only 5:20. Somehow, Audra wouldn’t even be dead for another twenty-five minutes.

“Is it what you really want, Patrick?” Henry asked. “You know I was really keen on going in order…”

Richie strained his eyes and finally spotted all three of them. Henry and Patrick looked like the normal delinquents in school, which was rather fitting of their personalities. Both of them were turned to each other, their body language showing they were only focusing on each other. Audra, who was to the side of Patrick, just didn’t matter.

“The order doesn’t really matter, when you think about it,” Patrick said. “We could kill First last, and it wouldn’t change anything. He’d still be dead.”

“Good point,” Henry agreed, as if the thought had never occurred to him before. What an idiot. Only then did he look at Audra, who was physically shaking, tears welling up in her eyes. “You really don’t have what it takes.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I promise I do!” She sniffled, only confirming his belief. “If we run into any other diary owners, I’ll keep myself together.”

Henry shared a look with Patrick, who shrugged. He nodded at him, pulling out a knife from inside his jacket. Audra only cried harder. “Oh my fucking god!” Patrick complained loudly. “Can you shut the fuck up?” He also pulled out a knife, nodding over at Henry.

Henry stabbed her first in one of her legs. Patrick mirrored his move by stabbing her in the opposite leg. Audra wailed out in pain, but that only seemed to motivate the two of them more. It annoyed Patrick to the point where he twisted his knife inside her leg before finally pulling it out and stabbing her stomach.

Eddie let out a loud gasp, which instantly made Richie clamp a hand over his mouth, petrified to see what would happen if they were discovered. “Eds, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “We should’ve just ran… or hid away.”

The two watched Henry and Patrick continue to harm the girl, noting how they would deliberately choose places that would keep her alive. They were the lowest of the low, with no sense of mercy in their bodies. Killing, even in this messed up game, didn’t have to be so cold, so personal. Audra had to watch as the two slowly killed her, had to watch as blood seeped out of her body into the green grass.

A couple minutes later, Audra was no longer responsive. Henry and Patrick were a little afraid at this point, knowing that the murder could be linked to them. “We have to cut her up,” Patrick said. “They might not be able to recognize the body if we do that.”

Henry wasn’t going to question him, wordlessly beginning to start to cut her into pieces. Eddie couldn’t watch anymore of it while also remaining silent, so he moved the hand Richie had over his mouth to over his eyes. Richie, however, couldn’t look away.

The two finished with their task. “Now, onto more pressing matters,” Henry panted. “Check your phone.”

Patrick nodded, pulling it out. He read through his entries before gazing back up at Henry. “They’re here. First and Second are here.”

Panic filled Richie’s body, and he quickly crouched up, dropping his hand from Eddie’s eyes. Sure enough, the two diary owners were searching through the field for them. “We have to go,” Richie told him. “Now.”

“Go where?” Eddie panicked. “Once we leave this bush, we’re out in the open.”

“We’ll have to run for it. Probably all the way to the parking lot by the park. I know how to hot-wire a car, if you know how to drive?”

Eddie only nodded, deciding that they needed to leave now and discuss this more later. They grabbed each other’s hands and stealthily watched, trying to find a moment where both Patrick and Henry’s backs were turned. Once the opportunity arised, the two dashed through the field. From behind them, Henry shouted, “There they are!”

Knowing they were chasing them, Richie knew there was a chance Eddie would be caught. It had crossed his mind as soon as he realized they had to run. Eddie had mentioned having asthma, and he really wasn’t sure how severe it would be. About half-way through the run over to the parking lot, he realized Eddie was slowing down. “We don’t have time for this!” he exclaimed. He kneeled down in front of him. “Get on my back, Eds.”

That’s how they ended up with Eddie being on his shoulders as Richie ran for the both of them. Now, Richie wasn’t exactly fit, but there was a certain advantage to Eddie being above and able to look back. “They’re further back,” he said. “I think they had to take a break. You can slow down a little, but keep moving!”

“I can’t slow down!” Richie yelled. “I need to have time to hot-wire the car once we make it there!” Despite this, knowing Patrick and Henry weren’t right behind them was reassuring. About ten minutes later, they finally made it to the parking area near the park. Richie let Eddie down before quickly picking a car to hot-wire.

He ended up finding a purple Volkswagen Beetle, which was a rather small car, but he had a feeling there would be a stronger chance that they would not get in a lot of trouble if they picked a cheaper car. “Slug bug!” he called out, before Eddie could, and punched his shoulder lightly. He quickly got in the front seat, hot-wired the car, and threw himself into the passenger seat as Eddie got buckled up in the front.

Once both of their seatbelts were on, Eddie pulled out of the parking slot. “Not to alarm you or anything,” Richie said, “but they’re really close now!”

“It’s all good,” Eddie said. “Now, just to warn you, I’m a notoriously bad driver. My mom didn’t even let me get my license, because she thought I was going to get in a lot of accidents.”

“And yet you offered to drive?!”

“Shut up, dude!” he yelled back. “You don’t know how to drive, but you know how to hot-wire one?”

Richie paused, before stating, “No comment.”

Then, Eddie drove off, and obviously Patrick and Henry couldn’t keep up with a car. Once they were further away, both of them were less tense. “Where should I go?” Eddie asked.

Richie’s gaze was focused on Eddie’s hands, which were tight on the steering wheel. His knuckles were even turning white. “I’m not sure. We need to dump this car off somewhere, and then we need to just… go home.”

“I know where we can dump it,” Eddie said. He proceeded to drive them over to a local diner, which was fairly close to Richie’s house. They parked by the entrance of the diner and got the fuck out of there. Then, the two were on foot over to Richie’s house.

“Well,” Richie concluded, “we learned a lot from that. It seems like Patrick’s diary told him that we were in the field. Maybe it’s a tracker?”

“That’s what you got out of this?” Eddie turned to him, his brown eyes widened as if he saw a ghost. “We just saw someone get killed!”

“I was trying not to focus on that.” Richie tried to be gentle with the way he said that, knowing it could be seen as insensitive. It didn’t seem to work, with Eddie placing his hands on his shoulders and shaking them repeatedly. “Hey, hey! Slow down!”

“No!” Eddie yelled. “I don’t think you get it, Richie. We just saw someone _die._ We watched as they stabbed her over and over. That’s… it’s fucked up!”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Richie admitted quietly. “I don’t know how to make you feel better. I’d normally go in for a joke, but…”

Jokes were how he would comfort himself, but this was too sensitive of a situation and he knew jokes wouldn’t help Eddie like that. Even he had to admit that seeing Twelfth die, or Audra, as they had learned her name to be, was traumatizing and he could see why Eddie was so shaken up. But he also knew being worked up over her death wouldn’t help in the long run.

Eddie stopped shaking him, a solemn look forming on his face. He pulled out a sunflower from his pocket, and at first it looked very ordinary. But it was coated in blood, Audra’s blood. “We can’t just forget what happened, Richie,” he said quietly. “We need to remember it… as we move on.”

He reached for the sunflower, Eddie allowing him to hold it. He brought it up closer to his eyes and frowned. There wasn’t much he could do now, except offer apologies to Audra. Sensing this private moment, Eddie moved a couple feet away from him. Under his breath, he told her sorry, sorry that they couldn’t help her. He told her that he knew who should become God.

Once he was done, he gave the sunflower back to Eddie. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I will be,” Eddie sighed. “I think I just need to sleep. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

And then he was gone. He felt a little bit empty without his presence, but he supposed he just latched onto him quickly. He loved how much Eddie cared for others, and how that wasn’t a weakness in his case. His love for others only makes him stronger.

Richie knew Eddie should become God, and he was prepared to do anything for that to happen. 


	5. The Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Eddie spend a day together, free of most of their concerns about the game. Once the day's over, they're brought back into their pedestals for an update on the game, and a truce is created.

The weekdays became their safe haven. Since all of the diary owners were teenagers, it was convenient for them to make moves on the weekends. So, Richie tried his best to keep their lives somewhat normal during the week.

Every day, him and Eddie would hang out during lunch and during whatever classes they have together. He would tell his jokes like he normally does, and Eddie would laugh at about half of them. It always seemed more genuine than when his other peers would laugh at his jokes. 

Friday was an exception. While it wasn’t technically part of the weekend, the lack of consequences on Saturday morning made the night so free. Additionally, Friday was the day where Eddie’s mother was less strict; on the other weekdays, she had a curfew set for Eddie that was ridiculously early. Richie had often heard of parents wanting their children home by the time the sun sets, but Eddie’s mother only wanted him to be out for maybe like an hour after school. On Friday, however, she didn’t care as much. Or, at least, that’s what Eddie told him. Richie liked to think that he’s just being a rebel.

This particular Friday was also exciting because they were sure that they were going to be safe. Neither of their diaries predicted that they would run into any other diary owners, which left time for them to “fuck around”, in Richie’s words. 

After the school day was over, Eddie told him he had to check in with his mother first. Richie decided he would come with him, as he was a little curious about his mother. During the time they’ve spent together, he had clued in onto the fact that Eddie’s mother was fiercely protective of him. 

Once they made it to his house, Eddie turned to face Richie. “This is going to be so embarrassing,” he sighed.

“I won’t make fun of you too much,” he promised, grinning. 

Knowing that this was the best offer he would get, Eddie nodded and entered through the door, holding it open for Richie to walk in as well. “Mom?” he called out, walking through the front room. “Eddie-bear!” his mother answered, delight in her voice. “How was school?”

“It was okay,” Eddie answered, glaring at Richie when he started laughing. “Hey, is it okay if I go hang out with Richie for a while?”

It was common knowledge that his mother didn’t really like Richie, as she saw him as a negative influence on her son. However, she probably thinks the same about everyone that comes into contact with Eddie, so Richie never took it personally. Besides, he’s aware that he has a lot of qualities that make him hard to be fond of. His mother turned to observe Richie. “I’ll make sure he’s back before curfew,” he offered.

That was good enough for her, so she agreed. Both boys turned to leave, but his mother stopped them. “Eddie, aren’t you forgetting something?”

Richie saw the distraught look on his face and watched as Eddie reluctantly turned back around and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. She was then satisfied, and Eddie slowly turned around and went out of the house, Richie following him cautiously. “You ready to have some fun, Eddie-bear?” Richie teased, unable to hold back his laughter.

“Shut up, Richie.” The glare the other boy sent him was pretty fierce, so he let it go, a smile on his face. 

“I’m sorry, Eds. That shit was just super funny.”

The two found themselves riding their bikes over to the arcade in Derry. On their way over, they kept pleasant conversation, with Richie occasionally bragging about how he was amazing at video games. It had come to his attention days ago that Eddie didn’t really get to play a lot of video games, so it was only natural for him to introduce him to Mortal Kombat.

Once they started playing, Richie tried his best to tell him good strategies. In fighting games, like Mortal Kombat, it’s more than just mashing the buttons. “You need to gauge your opponent,” he explained. “Regardless if you’re playing against an AI or a normal player, you can begin to recognize their patterns or strategies.”

“You know, this is pretty crazy,” Eddie commented. “You actually sound smart.”

“Of course I do, Eds. I’m a little wounded that this is a surprise to you.”

“If only you could be this smart when we’re actually against the other diary owners.”

Richie was indignant. Of course he would go for the sly remark! “Fine. If you’re going to be like that, I’ll stop going easy on you.”

“That’s fine with me,” Eddie shrugged. “You’ve already shown me how to play. I’m sure I can beat you.”

Several games later, Eddie had finally beat him. It had taken a couple of tries, but each time, Richie struggled more. It was interesting watching how he would improve quickly. Whatever caught Eddie up the first time would be exactly what he would watch for on the second attempt. “I did it!” Eddie beamed. “I beat you. I’m the master now!”

His excitement was tangible. It almost seemed comparable to winning lots of cash. Richie couldn’t help the grin that crept onto his face watching his friend congratulate himself. “Please. You’ve only won one game out of five.”

“Don’t underestimate me.”

The two kept playing for another hour. Richie still won a majority of the time, but Eddie was improving more and could give him a run for his money now. “My hands are all sweaty,” Richie complained, his face scrunching up. He turned to Eddie. “You wanna feel it?”

“Ew!” Eddie practically gagged. His own hands were sweaty too, so he could only imagine how bad Richie’s were. “Get away from me!”

“Rude,” Richie pouted, wiping his hands on his pants. “Anyway, I think the sweat’s a sign we should go do something else. You wanna go to a diner, or something?”

“I’d like to, but I don't have money with me. I don’t really get a lot of allowance money,” Eddie admitted.

“I’ll pay for you, Eds! It’ll be like a date.” Cue the horrible wink.

Unlike Eddie, he actually did get allowance money. To be honest, he was surprised his parents consistently remembered the allowance, but he knew it was just another way to push him away. If he had money, he would spend less time bugging his parents, probably less time inside. It used to make him sad to get his allowance, because it just reminded him of how much his parents would put up the facade of being caring. For once, though, he was happy about it. It was all worthwhile, knowing that he could help Eddie out and also spend time with him in the process.

The diner was a bustling place. The servers were constantly walking through the floor to serve their customers. Their server ended up sitting them down at a table, since booths generally require at least three customers. The two boys quickly ordered a drink and a small dinner. Richie wasn’t even that hungry.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if our server was a diary owner?” Richie suggested. His tone was light, clearly attempting to make a joke.

Unfortunately, bringing that up only made Eddie anxious. “Our diaries would’ve said something, right?” he frowned. 

Richie felt bad for bringing it up. It was probably in bad taste, since they had seen Twelfth’s death. Of course it would put Eddie on edge to remind him about the other diary owners. “We’re fine,” he said, chastising himself for being so stupid. “Both of our diaries didn’t tell us anything about encountering a diary owner.”

Eddie nodded. He couldn’t help but voice his worries. “I guess I’m a little paranoid. I’m scared of Eighth and Ninth. Ninth has that tracker, so it’s not like we can just hide from them.”

“But they gave up on going in order. We could just wait for them to kill the other diary owners and then strike.”

Eddie shook his head. There was a strange glint in his eyes. “They’re tough. I think what we need to do is… try to make an alliance with some of the other diary owners to take down Eighth and Ninth.”

“They are the common enemy,” Richie agreed. “They’re the only ones who’ve gotten a kill.”

The two ended up agreeing that they had to create an alliance, but both were unsure on how to do it. Their diaries weren’t equipped to seek other people out, so they figured they would just have to wait to be found by another diary owner. It’s risky, but it was their only option.

Once their food arrived, both of them were pretty quiet. Bringing up the game messed up the mood, but Richie was great with recovery. When his jokes failed, he always had a way out to relieve himself of some of the embarrassment. It should be similar here, and if he’s charming enough, he’ll be able to make Eddie push the game out of his head. It would only be for a couple hours, but he knew the two of them needed that time. 

It’s hard to focus on all the right things and try to find yourself when you’re busy trying to just stay alive. This time away from the game was recovery, in a way. 

Richie paid the bill, which he could tell Eddie felt slightly guilty for. “There’s always next time,” he winked. 

“Next time?” 

“Of course,” he promised. “We’ll always have time for little dinner dates.” He couldn’t help but think about when they wouldn’t have time, and when, inevitably, one of them would be dead. It was going to be him, he was sure of it. So, it left a sour taste in his mouth to make these kinds of promises when even he wasn’t confident that they would see another day.

It was enough to lift Eddie’s mood up. When they were back on their bikes, he was chatting away about how next time, he would win the majority of the rounds in Mortal Kombat.

Afterwards, they just spent time exploring Derry together. Both had lived in Derry for their whole lives and had probably seen all that could be seen of it, but it felt like a new experience. Their minds were no longer thinking about the game, the other diary owners, or their impending doom. They were free, but only for a day. 

When dusk struck, Richie knew it was time to go back to Eddie’s house. He did want to spend more time with him, but he also didn’t want to get him in trouble. Though, he did ponder about if that would put Eddie into a safer decision. His mother would probably ground him for some time, and there would be a less of a chance that he would get killed.

But he had noticed a lot through spending time with Eddie. He knew Eddie had his own reservations about his mother, finding her too protective. Thinking about it made his heart lurche; he wished his own parents would love him like that. 

If Eddie was grounded, he would be miserable. Richie couldn’t let that happen, even though it was the safer option for him. Some part of him felt protective of Eddie, and not just with the games. It felt like seeing him unhappy would make himself unhappy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he grinned, as Eddie got off his bike. 

“Yeah.” For a moment, it was silent between them. Eddie’s cheeks were flushed, and his grin was kind. “I had a great time with you, Richie. It really made me feel better, so… Thank you.”

Richie nodded, almost feeling a sense of pride. “It was no problem at all, Eds. I feel better now, too.”

Again, another moment of silence. It felt like something was missing, and they were both working up the courage to say something, or do something. Feeling awkward, and a little bit unsure on how he felt, he waved goodbye and quickly rode away on his bike.

The ride home was short, but it gave him too much time to reflect on what happened. They’d had the perfect day together, but yet, Riche felt like he missed out on something. He wasn’t sure what it was. 

And then, once he was home, he was again left with too much time and a lot of things on his mind. He was thinking about why he felt a little empty, despite having such a great time, when he found himself in a deep sleep. He wasn’t asleep for long.  
His eyes blinked open, and he was on his pedestal again. “Greetings, diary owners,” Deus called out. His tone was cordial, but Richie could sense the subtle excitement in His voice. “I’ve brought you here to give you an update on the game’s proceedings.” 

He knew what this was about. He noticed Twelfth’s pedestal was empty, but he was caught by surprise. His gaze was on the pedestals next to Twelfth’s as Deus explained, “Tenth, Eleventh, and Twelfth have been killed, and they are out of the game.” 

Twelfth had only died a couple days ago, and two others had already joined her in death. It was overwhelming to think about, and he instantly looked at Ninth and Tenth, who looked particularly smug. Did they kill Tenth and Eleventh too? 

“Deus, is it okay if I say something?” Seventh asked. It was hard to make out her silhouette, but Richie knew Beverly’s voice fairly well. Her threat to them in their last encounter ran through his head: You may have won the battle, but not the war. I, Beverly Marsh, will win this game and become God.

“Of course,” Deus replied, and all the attention was suddenly on Seventh.

“I would like to call an attack on Eighth and Ninth specifically.” She began to address the other diary owners. “The two are too strong together, as they killed Tenth, Eleventh, and Twelfth. If I may be so bold, I would like to call a truce with you guys and just focus on those two.”

Her confidence was alluring, and several diary owners began to agree. Instantly, him and Eddie agreed to this truce, to which Seventh smirked at. Third and Fourth appeared to be talking it out amongst themselves, probably already in an alliance themselves. Fifth also agreed with Seventh, but was a little reluctant. Sixth thought about it for a few moments before agreeing, and Third and Fourth were seemingly convinced to join just based on the fact that everyone else had joined the truce. 

Eighth and Ninth were, understandably, cocky. “You guys can all band together and try to take us down, but we’ll still win!” Eighth declared, arrogantly.

Ninth, however, seemed to be at least a little worried. He didn’t voice his concern, but it was easy to tell by the way his eyes nervously flickered from diary owner to diary owner. “Right,” he said. “We’ll win.”

Eighth must have been dense to not notice his teammates' uneasiness. Deus was amused by the truce. “This will be interesting,” He said. “I’ll let you go now, but I’ll leave you with something to think about. Can you really trust your allies?”

Almost instantly, it was over, and Richie’s eyes blinked open to see the wall of his bedroom. His answer to Deus’ ending question was easy. He trusted Eddie, but nobody else. He could trust the other diary owners enough to work together to bring Eighth and Ninth down, but nothing more than that.

Despite this truce, it was still anyone’s game. 


	6. Morality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Eddie meet Fifth and Seventh, and get to know them better. This becomes an issue for them when they learn that Seventh is taking advantage of Fifth's feelings. They don't like Seventh's morals, but they have to work with her, due to the truce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooo! i'm glad people are liking the story :]. more actions going to happen next chapter, but the calmer moments are important too.

It was only a couple of days after the last meeting with Deus and the other diary owners when their diaries informed them that they would meet up with Fifth and Seventh. Knowing Seventh was with Fifth, they felt strangely comforted. They hadn’t met Fifth yet, but they could assume that no danger would come to them, and Eddie’s diary backed that up.

Eddie’s diary had proclaimed that there was only a ten percent chance things could go wrong. Both of them knew that meant they should just try to listen to them and not rustle any feathers. Beverly didn’t seem like the type of person to let people walk all over her.

Again, Richie’s diary was basically useless. This time, neither of them lamented about this. The temporary truce made them feel safe.

“We’ll meet her after school,” Eddie said, checking his phone again to look at the time of the entry. “I’m guessing it’ll be a short meeting.”

Richie hummed, acknowledging what he said. “Yeah. I just hope I can get through Mr. Wise’s test today. His class is such bullshit.”

“Right?!” Eddie exclaimed, a little desperate to change the subject. Also, this happened to be something he was passionate about. 

The test was, as expected, completely bullshit. But it had been a good enough distraction. Instead of riding the bus, both decided to just walk home. That way, there might be a chance for them to encounter Fifth and Seventh. 

For a while, everything was normal. Both boys would complain about their backpacks being heavy, and they would complain about their schoolwork. About halfway through the walk, they heard a voice exclaim, “There they are!”

“Hey, boys,” Beverly greeted, a slight smile on her face. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Beside her was a boy around their age. He was short and chubby, but had a kind demeanor. 

“What even is your diary?” Eddie’s voice was chipped, a little annoyed. 

“Well,” Beverly replied, “let’s just say it’s a little descriptive.”

“Who’s the loser next to you?” Richie questioned, nodding towards him. Eddie rolled his eyes, and proceeded to punch him on the shoulder.

“Obviously that’s Fifth!” 

“He sure doesn’t look like it.”

The boy, ignoring their argument, began to introduce himself. “I am Fifth, but my real name’s Ben. It’s nice to meet you.” He brightly smiled.

Richie decided it was only right for him to introduce himself. Of course, he was going to exaggerate it a little, but Ben wouldn’t know. “I’m---”

“I already told him who you are, dipshit!” Beverly interrupted, rolling her eyes. Ben nodded beside her.

Richie frowned. It made sense, but he missed out on having some fun. Eddie, deciding that they had to get through being casual, brought up the truce. “How’s this going to work out?” he asked. “Are we going to go find the others?”

Beverly felt reluctant to answer that question entirely. “My diary hasn’t told me a lot about Third, Fourth, and Sixth. I think we should stick together and see what happens.”

“What about your diary?” Eddie questioned, turning his inquisitive eyes toward Ben. Ben’s eyes flickered over to Beverly to read her expression, before shaking his head.

“Mine’s not helpful with tracking, either,” he admitted. It was clear to both Eddie and Richie that the two were being purposely vague with their diaries. However, they trusted the little bit of information that was given. 

The group decided to stay together. Also, since they had time, they decided to get to know each other better. Richie felt it was a little pointless, as while they were allies at this point in time, they wouldn’t be allies forever. Getting to know each other might not be a good thing, so Richie kept quiet on anything personal that could be used against him. 

They ended up in the same diner Eddie and Richie had been to recently. This was expected, as it was a nice place to eat at and was close by. “When did you guys meet?” Eddie asked. 

“We’ve known each other for a while,” Ben explained. His voice was quiet, but there was a certain quality of fondness in it. “We weren’t really friends, but things changed once we realized we were both diary owners.” 

“Right,” Beverly agreed. “I guess you could say it brought us together.” 

“That sounds similar to how we met,” Richie commented. “I didn’t really pay attention to him until he pretended to laugh at one of my jokes.” Turning towards Eddie, he stuck out his tongue. “Asshole.”

“Someone has to be honest with you,” Eddie chuckled. 

Ben seemed interested when they talked about themselves, but something about Beverly’s demeanor struck Richie as different. He could tell she was listening, but it felt like most of their words left as soon as they entered. There would be a blank look on her face, until when someone else would look at her, especially Ben. When someone looked at her, she would either flash a grin, chuckle, or whatever the appropriate reaction was.

This only struck him as more confusing when Ben would talk. Richie could understand if she didn’t really care about him or Eddie, but he had thought Ben was her friend. If anything, she seemed annoyed by him at times. She would cover it up with a smile, but Richie had a knack for knowing when people’s smiles weren’t genuine. 

Eddie and Ben got into a separate conversation, having found some point to bond with. During this time, Richie scrutinized Beverly, who at turn, looked at him with the same amount of suspicion. Richie didn’t expect her to get anything out of it, but something about her made him shiver with fear. Her blue eyes would look icy and mysterious, and her gaze made him feel transparent. 

Richie didn’t have much to hide, but regardless, he felt frightened. 

Once Ben’s conversation with Eddie naturally reached its conclusion, he looked at Beverly with worry. “Are you okay, Bev?” he asked gently. Richie wasn’t sure what his deal was. While Beverly might have come off as distracted, she was definitely fine.

“Of course,” she smiled. And it all made sense when Ben’s cheeks flushed. 

Ben liked her, and it seemed as though Beverly was aware of the fact. She wouldn’t mention it, but she knew. She wouldn’t mention it, because his feelings were her advantage. That was how low she would stoop. 

Near the end of their meal, Ben excused himself to the restroom, and Richie took this time to confront Beverly. It felt wrong to him that Beverly would knowingly take advantage of the poor boy’s feelings.

“Ben’s a sweet boy, isn’t he?” Richie sighed, leaning his chin onto his hand. His eyes were fixated on Beverly’s, and he caught when her eyes sparkled and showed danger.

"A little too innocent," Beverly replied, practically daring him to make his accusation. Both were aware about what was going on, and it seemed like Eddie had an idea too, despite seemingly not paying as much attention.

"And I guess that's a good thing for you?" Eddie spoke, his words thinly hiding his anger. "He's your little bodyguard, isn't he?"

"There's nothing wrong with that," Beverly declared. "This is war, and his precious feelings might be hurt, but guess what?"

"What?" Eddie gritted out.

"The world doesn't care if you're hurt," Beverly continued on, inspired by the frustration both boys were showing. "It's rotten how evil is allowed to fester. When I become God, that'll change."

Despite her confidence, and her admittedly reasonable motivation, Richie knew she would not become God. God wasn't petty and was beyond taking His frustrations out on others. God was someone who was kind, and understanding. God, Richie thought, as he looked back over at his friend, was someone like Eddie.

Eddie scoffed. "And yet you have no problem hurting people. I could maybe understand killing, because it's what we'll have to do. But this?"

The three watched as Ben made his way back to their booth. Before he was in earshot, Eddie finished, "The way you're hurting him is wrong."

While their group finished up and left the diner, both boys knew they hadn't changed Beverly's mind. While she wasn't obligated to return Ben's feelings, the least she could do was treat him like an actual friend. 

Finally, the group split apart as the sun started setting. Eddie’s curfew had popped into Richie’s mind, so he walked with him over to his house. “What do you think of them?”

“Ben seems nice,” Eddie said, “which makes what Beverly’s doing even more frustrating. He doesn’t deserve being used.”

Richie agreed, nodding. “Beverly doesn’t have morals.”

It seemed like an exaggeration on their part, but Ben’s just being used for her safety. He’s just her ally to help her get to the end. To be honest, Richie pondered what happened to Beverly to have her develop her sense of justice? What made her become this way?

“We can’t do much about it,” Eddie sighed. “I just hope Third, Fourth, and Sixth aren’t like that.”

What kind of people would they be like? Richie pondered this too. Fourth had spoken a few times during the meetings with the other diary owners, but it still wasn’t enough to know what he was like. 

“I hope so too.”

When they made it to Eddie’s house, they said goodbye. Again, Richie felt awkward, but this time, he had a feeling he knew what was missing the last time he dropped Eddie off like this. 

Richie didn’t really want to say goodbye with his words, or with a wave. He wanted to say it with a kiss, but he knew acting on that wasn’t a good idea. “Eds,” he choked out, knowing his face was gradually becoming more red.

“Y-Yeah?” Eddie seemed nervous too.

Richie paused, unsure of what he really wanted to say. “I think what you said to Beverly earlier was… brave.”

“Oh,” he replied, quietly. “Uh, that wasn’t much. I was just saying the truth, wasn’t I?”

“Well, yeah, but…” Richie trailed off for a moment. He guessed he just liked how Eddie stood up for Ben, and stood up for what’s right. “I think you’d make a better God than she ever could,” he said instead.

Eddie smiled faintly. “I’m glad to hear that. And, Richie?”

“Yeah?”

Eddie paused, seemingly just for the dramatics. “I think you’d make a good God, too.”

Richie opened his mouth to protest, but Eddie had already turned away and entered his house. Richie shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. Of course he would do that. Of course he would turn it around and act humble.

Richie knew, based on the qualities he liked about Eddie, that Eddie was wrong. He wasn’t like him at all, but he supposed he wouldn’t argue. How would he tell him that he’s not really a good person?  
Besides that, it felt nice to be appreciated. He didn’t get that from people often. 

But thoughts about Eddie plagued him all night. If blushing gave Ben away, he wondered if he'd done anything to give his own feelings away. Was Eddie aware?

Was Eddie just using him, like Beverly was using Ben?

He could tell himself Eddie wasn’t like that, but the thought wouldn’t go away. Sometimes, the optimistic part of his brain thought maybe Eddie felt the same way, but he knew not to trust that. It’s safer to be pessimistic than optimistic.

What even was there to like about him?

With that in mind, Richie knew to just push away his feelings.


	7. The Problem With Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beverly finds out that Sixth is in trouble and will certainly die, and she informs the others. They're not sure how to help Sixth. Meanwhile, Eddie and Richie truly bond.
> 
> And Sixth knows he's relying too much on hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woot! half-way point in this fic, chapter wise! near the end we get a bit of a different pov, just to spice things up.
> 
> tysm for reading and commenting. it really inspires me to keep going and stay consistent.

Pushing away his feelings wasn’t as easy as he had previously thought.

Richie’s the type of guy to be open about his personal life, even to strangers. It felt odd to actually keep his mouth shut, and his nerves ended up putting him and Eddie in awkward situations sometimes. He’d tried to hide it from Beverly and Ben at least, but his attempts were in vain.

The diner continued being their meeting spot, and Richie guessed he glanced at Eddie far too often. Beverly could be talking about something important, but his eyes would stray over to Eddie. She would never say anything about it, but Ben would always give him a stern look that reminded him of the situation.

“My diary tells me information about the other diary owners,” Beverly explained, with a hint of reluctance. “But it only works if I’ve met them already.”

“Is that how you found us again so easily?”

“Exactly.” She nodded. The oddest expression of confusion flickered on her pale face. “This morning, my diary told me something about Sixth, but I don’t recall meeting them.”

“‘And my diary hasn’t mentioned anything about Sixth,” Ben added.

“Maybe Sixth’s diary is able to reach out to the others?” Eddie guessed, frowning. “That is weird, though.”

Beverly ended up showing them the entry. In comparison to some of her other entries, it had a different kind of writing style.

_Sixth is with Third and Fourth. They face Eighth and Ninth, and the two ditch Sixth._

“If Sixth sent it out to you, maybe they’re asking for help,” Ben said.

“I thought so too,” she agreed, which made Ben smile slightly. Any slight approval from her tended to cause that. “But it’s not even helpful. How would we find Sixth from that?”

“What does your diary do?” Eddie questioned, looking at Ben with curiosity in his eyes. The boy faltered, but Eddie pressed further. “You know what ours do, so it’s only fair.”

Ben, being kind and rational, agreed to tell them, but it was obvious he was nervous. “Mine tells me information about the one I… love,” he shyly answered. “You know, to protect them.”

“Well, that’s quite useless,” Eddie stated, his attention back on Beverly. Richie bit back a laugh, but his heart constricted.

To be honest, while it wasn’t helpful to them, Richie thought Ben’s diary was adorable. But unfortunately, in Beverly’s manipulative hands, it served a different purpose. He supposed it would be quite helpful for Beverly to align with someone who’s diary is designed to protect her. And it made him think about his own diary, which had changed a little.

His diary was still about his jokes, but the entries were so focused on Eddie that it bordered on being pathetic. His reactions were basically half of the entries, with everybody else basically taking the backseat.

The four diary owners were at a loss at what they should do. Sixth had basically sent out a call for help, but none of them knew how to help. They had no leads, and again felt like they just had to wait for the events to unfold. If Sixth couldn’t find them, then they were probably fucked.

After this discussion, they continued to hang out, this time with a more casual tone. Sometimes, Richie pondered what it would be like if the game didn’t exist and they were normal teenagers. He’d like to think they would all be friends, even with Beverly’s misgivings. Without the influence, the prize of the game, Richie thought she could be normal. They could all just enjoy their time as teenagers.

But he knew there was no point in dwelling on those kinds of thoughts; nothing could save them now.

\---

There was something holding Richie back from truly hating the game they were placed in. He would never express these thoughts, not even to Eddie, as he knew he would sound crazy. But there hadn’t been much for him to lose. He was just a boy riding the waves and seeing where it takes him, and a part of him was grateful that the end could be soon.

Eddie, like expected, felt completely different. After their meeting with Beverly and Ben, Richie once again walked him home. And during this walk, Eddie was ranting and raving. “I’m tired of this,” he sighed deeply. “It’s so fucked up. It just… it would be so much easier if we only had contact with those we fight, but there are so many times we have to act, and try to save someone.”

Richie thought back to Twelfth. She had seemed like a gentle girl who had unfortunately crossed the wrong guys. There was nothing they could’ve done in that situation, at least without risking their own lives. But he could tell it took a heavy toll on Eddie, and there wasn’t anything he could say that would automatically solve that. “If we can’t help Sixth, it’s not our fault,” he said, in an attempt to comfort him.

“Well, who’s fault is it?” Eddie retorted. His words were quick, and his face was flushed red. “If we’re not at fault for leaving Twelfth, then Third and Fourth aren’t at fault for ditching Sixth.”

Richie stopped him, placing his hands on the other boy’s shoulders. He could feel how he was shaking, and he desperately wished he could fix it. In a way, though, he would never feel the losses of the other diary owners as deeply as Eddie would. “Eds, you need to calm down,” he murmured. “It’s great that you care, but it’s only going to hold you back.”

“If I don’t care for them, who will?”

His argument made sense, and Richie found that he didn’t really have an answer for that. “I think about all these people,” Eddie continued, his eyes watering. His voice caught in his throat. “They’re just like us, and they’re going to die. They have dreams, just like I did…”

“Eds…”

“I dreamed of escaping,” the other boy continued, his eyes fixated past Richie’s shoulder. “Once I was eighteen, I was going to take everything and leave. Leave my mother and then I could… finally breathe.” He shook his head rapidly. “But that’ll never happen, and whatever the others want will never happen.”

“But your mother… she loves you.” Unconsciously, his grip on Eddie’s shoulders tightened. He didn’t get it! He would do anything for his parents to care for him like Eddie’s mother cared for him, and yet. And yet, Eddie was so willing to throw that away. Part of him wanted to resent Eddie for having all the choices Richie never did, but the other part of him knew it wasn’t right to hate someone for just having a better life than him.

“She doesn’t love me right,” Eddie said, and there was a grim smile on his face. And at first, it didn’t really make sense to him, but then Eddie explained what he meant.

Most days, Eddie had to fight to leave the house. His mother was always paranoid that he was sick, even when there was nothing wrong with him. When he was younger, Eddie thought it was a little annoying, but summed it up to her caring about him. But in his teenage years, he had come to the realization that she was making him lose so much of life, and all for the sake of her own happiness.

He had figured out it wasn’t really for his health, but rather just to control him. She would give him so much medicine, to the point where Eddie had blindly trusted her and thought he was a rather sickly boy. But the pills were fake, and she was hiding him from the world. “I don’t think she’s evil,” he said. “But she’s smothering, and all I wanted to do was leave and finally live…”

It resonated with Richie, and he could understand that getting attention doesn’t always make it the kind of attention you would want. “I get it, Eds. I was almost upset with you, and I have to admit, I used to be jealous. But I see now what you have isn’t really desirable.”

“Jealous?” Eddie asked, frowning. “Why?”

“In her own messed up way, your mother cared for you,” Richie said, sighing. “I can’t say I got that from my parents.”

It was something Eddie had noticed, in more subtle moments. Richie never really had to ask his parents to leave, and also didn’t have much to say about them. “They work hard,” Richie admitted, scratching his neck. “I know they do, and they provide for me everything I could possibly want, but they’re barely there.”

“Rich…”

“I tried to not question it,” he continued. “Maybe I was just being too clingy, but it just hurt. We barely talk about anything, and when there’s an opportunity to, I get my hopes up so high. But I always end up being disappointed.”

“You shouldn’t make excuses for them,” Eddie replied, having gained an understanding of the situation. “Rich, they’ve neglected you.”

He nodded slowly, knowing the other boy was right. But it had been so easy to pretend things would get better, and to rationalize that his parents do take care of him. It just wasn’t enough, and there were other things he needed from them that they never really gave. “God, we’re fucked up, aren’t we, Eds?”

Eddie was silent for a moment, but found himself unable to hold back a chuckle. “We are,” he said breathlessly. Richie joined him, laughing as if their situation was the funniest thing on the Earth.

They’re fucked up, and that was okay. They wouldn’t have to deal with it for much longer, as Richie was going to die, and he would ensure that Eddie would become God. Eddie could make a better world for everyone, where nobody has to feel the way they did.

In some regard, he couldn’t wait for everything to unfold.

\---

Mike Hanlon read the entry on his phone, his hands shaking. The words _DEAD END_ flashed at him, and he was in a blind panic.

“A-Are you okay, M-Mike?”

Mike looked up and noticed Bill’s worried look. Bill, or Fourth, seemed concerned. Beside him, Stan, or Third, also sent him a worried look. Before, he would’ve believed that they actually cared.

But why didn’t their phones go off? Why was he the only one with a Dead End?

“I-I’m fine,” he stammered. It was a lie, but Mike could barely look at them without seeing red.

Mike knew that their alliance was temporary, and he knew that Third and Fourth had some sort of strong bond, but he couldn’t believe this would happen. The entries prior to the Dead End message informed him that they would encounter Eighth and Ninth. Somehow, the others survived, and Mike knew that they were going to leave him.

It wouldn’t be an easy decision for them, as they had formed somewhat of a friendship. Their friendship just wasn’t worth dying for. Mike wanted to be bitter, wanted to hate them, but he understood it.

“Just tell us if something’s wrong,” Stan requested. “We’re in this together.”

“Right,” Mike smiled. He could pretend, just like those two did. Those two had been so nice to him, listened to him and cared about his problems, even the ones that pertained to outside the game.

This game didn’t breed friendship or even love. All he was to them was just their shield. It left him with a heavy heart, because he knew that between them, it wasn’t like that. He might not have spent much time with Bill and Stan, but he knew the two cared about each other.

That was something he hadn’t been able to experience in a long time.

“Come on, s-slowpoke!” Bill shouted, urging him to keep walking. He had stopped during his brooding, but he was over it now. Mike shook his head and caught up with the two.

When the two weren’t paying attention to him, probably more caught up with each other, he pulled his phone out and sent a message out. He hoped it would reach the right person, but he knew he was relying too much on hope these days.

Mike really wished things could be different, but he too, knew they couldn’t be. 


	8. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike meets his dead end, but isn't really alone in death. Bill and Stan pay their respects before leaving to find the rest of their allies, with Stan being guided by a voice. Once they meet up with them, they devise a plan on how to deal with Eighth and Ninth.

Sometimes, when Mike closed his eyes, the world would go still. The boys next to him would disappear, and he would be left with the numbness that had settled in. He was only hours away from death, and he was nervous about how it would feel.

Mike hadn’t thought he would win the game, but he didn’t think it would end like this. He never imagined he would have to deal with his friends leaving him behind to die. But it was with a heavy heart that he realized either of them would be a better God than he ever would.

Bill and Stan decided that they should go to the field. He agreed with them, but he recalled that there’s no way that their diaries haven’t told them about the confrontation. “Guys,” he said. “I’m scared.”

“I-It’s going to be okay,” Bill promised. 

“It’s just like falling asleep,” Stan said, directly addressing his concern. It was a bit morbid, but Mike appreciated that the two said anything at all. He nodded.

The three talked during the walk, keeping it casual. Bill, in particular, was trying his hardest to make Mike feel better, and it certainly touched him. When he had first read the “Dead End” message, he thought the two were going to abandon him at the first moment of struggle. But it was clear to him that it really was just for their survival. He knows even the three of them together probably don’t stand a chance against Eighth and Ninth together, so it made sense.

And as they made it to the field, and Eighth and Ninth approached, Mike pondered if he would do the same thing. 

Eighth and Ninth had formed a bond, one that had been strengthened by killing the others together. It was clear to Mike that they had gotten used to each other and knew each other’s weaknesses and strengths. The fight commenced with normal punches and kicks. The three took them in stride, getting in their own hits.

After a particularly nasty blow had knocked Eighth to the ground, Ninth pulled out a knife. Ninth went to attack Bill first, but didn’t get much done, due to Stan helping him and at times pulling him away. When Eighth had stood up, rubbing his aching head, Mike realized this was where it would get sour.

Following his teammate’s lead, Eighth also took out a knife. Out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw Bill and Stan retreating. Somehow, both Eighth and Ninth’s attention were solely on him. It’s over, he thought to himself. 

Eighth stabbed him, the knife landing in his chest. Mike shuddered, the pain slowly taking over. It hurt so badly… “That’s enough, right?” Eighth asked, turning his head to look at Ninth.

Ninth examined the wound. “It should be,” he said, stepping forward. Instead of taking mercy, he twisted the knife inside Mike. The excruciating pain made Mike scream. 

The two looked at him for a moment before leaving. Mike watched them leave, gasping for breath. He knew that the blood loss was going to kill him, and he knew there wasn’t much he could do. Taking the knife out would make it worse, and he couldn’t get help. Bill and Stan were gone, probably safe from Eighth and Ninth. 

His hand grabbed the handle of the knife still inside his body, in an attempt to comfort himself. His hand shook, and his grip weakened. It was so hard to keep his eyes open, and Mike wasn’t even sure why he was putting so much effort into staying alive. There was nothing left for him now, and he had been naive to think the game would change that.

The grass rustled around him, and someone kneeled next to him. “God, he looks te-terrible,” they remarked, and Mike could’ve sworn he’d heard that voice before. But all he could feel was pain, so he didn’t turn to look at them. He didn’t have the energy to.

“Yeah.” Another voice chimed in, also kneeling down next to him. “Mike, we’re so sorry.”

Mike felt the two of them grab his hands, squeezing them reassuringly. It was at that moment that Mike figured out who they were, and he smiled tiredly. “I didn’t think you guys would come back,” he murmured, his voice cracking. 

He turned to look at them. His friends smiled back at him, but in a bittersweet kind of way. “Of course we would,” Bill said. He sounded so self-assured that Mike felt bad for ever doubting them. The two of them had the decency to see him off, and for that, Mike saw the goodness in them. 

“Win for me,” he pleaded. Either of them would be a good option, but he was well aware that there was a plan involved. “Please.”

Stan nodded. With their return, Mike knew that he could never regret his life, despite the many highs and lows. He’d seen the world, and in them he had glimpsed love. Having finally reached peace, Mike felt his eyes close. 

And as he passed away, he could still feel their presence. 

\---

Bill and Stan stayed there for a couple more minutes. They felt like they owed it to him, and it was their time to remember everything they’d gone through together. There was never going to be a better time for them to say goodbye.

“We’ll bri-bring him back,” Bill promised, more to himself. This constant reassurance was how Bill was able to stay strong during this. Mike wouldn’t have died in vain.

“You will,” Stan replied offhandedly, which caused his friend to sigh. Bill sent him a look, so he didn’t comment any further, even though it was true. He would make it true.

After paying their respects, the two left the field. Neither knew exactly where to go to meet the others, but it was the only thing they could do. Somehow, though, Stan had a lead. He wasn't sure how, but it felt like someone was leading him, whispering into his mind where to go.

This voice would direct him on each turn.  _ Take a left and head straight.  _ The voice was unrecognizable and was a faint hiss. Stan knew it was reckless, and even dangerous to trust it, but there were no other options. 

The voice ended up leading them for about twenty minutes through the town. Finally, the voice said,  _ You'll know when you see them. _

And he did. There was a group of four, and even though he's never seen them before, his mind flashed back to the numerous meetings with the other diary owners. They seemed to fit the heights of some of the diary owners. Again, there was just the fact that he  _ knew  _ it was them. 

"Hello," Stan said, greeting them. "I'm sure you've been expecting us."

That got their attention. Immediately, one of the boys asked, "Sixth is dead, isn't he?" 

“Y-Yeah,” Bill answered. The other diary owners stared at the two judgmentally, not agreeing with their decision to leave him behind. 

Anticipating their reaction, Stan said, “It’s all for the greater good. We wouldn’t have the heart to face him later, if it was just us three.”

From there, the group introduced themselves to each other. Stan made his own observations of them, regardless if their words contradicted themselves. Beverly was the most confident one, and he felt like it was easy to look into the depths of her soul. Ben, too, was easy to understand; it was clear he was lost, and saw Beverly as his beacon of hope. Though it was rather foolish of him, Stan sympathized.

When it came to Richie and Eddie, though, it was a different story. It was clear that the two were close with each other, sharing a bond. The two were a pair, and they even occasionally finished each other’s sentences. 

“Eds and I met after the game started,” Richie said, grinning. “I’ve been annoying him ever since!”

Stan could tell this was true. Eddie immediately slapped his shoulder, muttering something under his breath.

But it was perplexing. They have such a good bond, but they’ve only known each other for perhaps a month. 

Stan shook his head as he watched the group interact together. He wondered how their friendship would inevitably be ruined by the game. Power would eventually catch up with one of them and ensnare them, captivating them enough to the point where it wouldn’t matter what it would take to achieve it. Friendships are often fickle like that, always so self-serving. It’s the common descent people go through in life; power and status rule over love.

“How’d you find us?” Ben asked. “None of our diaries are that useful with tracking locations.”

It was an invitation to disclose more information, and information was vital. Disclosing their diaries could be the difference between life and death, later on. Stan knew Bill wanted to trust them and tell them more, but just a moment of eye contact between them reassured him. “It sounds crazy,” Stan said, “but I heard a voice guiding me.”

“You’re right. That does sound crazy,” Richie muttered, staring at him oddly. 

Stan explained a bit more. He could tell they weren’t really believing him, but he didn’t really care if they did or not. 

“And you believed this?” Beverly asked, addressing Bill.

“Of course,” Bill said, self-assured. “I trust him and his intuition with my life.” Stan and him shared a smile. No stutter, Stan noted.

“I actually believe him too,” Eddie countered. “Maybe Deus was tired of waiting for us to meet, so He spoke to Stan, or something like that.”

Again, it was another hypothesis, but at this point, the six diary owners decided they didn’t need to understand how they were brought together. 

“How are we going to fight Eighth and Ninth?”

Eighth and Ninth had killed four diary owners, which was coincidentally all of the current deaths.

“Ninth’s diary tracks other diary owners,” Eddie recalled, remembering the interaction him and Richie had back in the field with them. “I’m not sure how it actually works, but it’s possible that they’re already on the way to find us.”

“We’ll need a distraction,” Beverly proposed. “And I was thinking that Ben should do it.”

Stan had to admit that she was a clever girl. She had probably been waiting for this very moment where she could use him. 

“Really?” Richie complained. “How would he be a good distraction? They’ll run faster than him!” 

“They’ll underestimate him,” Beverly answered. She turned to face Ben, the person she just nominated to risk their life. “What do you think, Ben?”

Ben squirmed under her stare. He didn’t want to disappoint her. “Um,” he shuddered. “Am I really the only option?”

There was a moment of silence, as if waiting for someone else to volunteer. But nobody spoke up, causing Ben to sigh heavily. “I guess I’ll do it.”

Stan pitied him, and not for the obvious reason. It must suck for somebody to sell you out like that, especially when you still hold them in a high regard. If anyone other than Beverly asked, Ben wouldn’t have agreed. He was a fool.

And so the descent began. 


	9. Love: The Ultimate Motivation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben distracts Eighth and Ninth, leading them to get ambushed by the rest of the diary owners. But when he gets injured, Beverly loses control of herself. Things don't end the way they thought it would, because life's not fair. Ben plans for revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo! things have been rough lately, so i hope everyone's okay and safe!

Ben held his head up high as he walked through Derry. The others were hanging out in a public space, safe when around so many other people. But Ben was alone, with only his phone as comfort. Sometimes, he would pause to read the entries again just to be sure. 

Beverly would be okay. His diary promised him that, and for that knowledge, he would walk into what could very likely be his demise. He’d take the world head on. Ben was aware that he should be more panicked, as his diary was unfortunately lacking in details about his own welfare, but he was so focused on her wellbeing.

Prior to the games starting, Ben had written notes about crushes he’d get on girls at school. He was the type of guy to have many crushes, and this had become very consuming. He was never  _ obsessed _ with them, or anything like that, but he spent a worrying amount of time dreaming about them and wishing to be with them.

But none of his crushes had consumed him as much as his current one on Beverly. There was something about her that attracted his attention more than any other girl had. As they allied together and entered a partnership, his feelings grew stronger, and his diary proceeded to only discuss her wellbeing. 

Ben knew all of it was in vain. The existence of the game ruined any chance they had of being together, but that didn’t eliminate his feelings, despite how tortuous they had become. As he walked into the clearing where he would be near Eighth and Ninth, he pondered if that meant he was in love.

“HEY!” he shouted. “YOU GUYS LOOKING FOR ME?”

It got their attention. When their heads perked up and Ben could match faces to Eighth and Ninth, he felt terrified. He gulped, watching as they smirked, preparing to chase him. Taking this as his cue, he ran away, knowing they’d follow. The plan was for him to lead them to a specific place the others had picked, so they could ambush them. 

For a while, it was working. Ben was running faster than he’d ever ran in his life, and hearing Eighth and Ninth complain motivated him even more. He could tell the chase was making the two boys more bloodthirsty, but he couldn’t stop now. He had to be a good distraction, or the whole ambush would fail. 

The location they’d picked out earlier was actually by an abandoned house. At first, somebody had suggested the field, but Richie had outright rejected it, claiming that he would never go back there. Stan and Bill, having lost Sixth in the same field, had no objections, thus leading to the decision with the abandoned house. 

Ben got closer and closer to the house, almost exclaiming in relief. Having become exhausted at this point, he was running slower, and the gap between him and Eighth and Ninth was closing in. “PATRICK, JUST THROW IT!” Ninth yelled to his partner.

Ben didn’t even dare to acknowledge it, even though he could hear Eighth agreeing and could feel the knife land in his shoulder. His only reaction was a deep groan. All he could think about was that he was almost there, and then everything would work out. The pain only pushed him further.

Another knife, thrown yet again by Eighth, grazed his side, causing him to let out a sigh of relief. Moments later, he finally made it to the front of the house, breathing deeply as the pain from his wounds finally kicked in. “Come on, where are they?” he muttered to himself.

“We’ve got him now,” Eighth chuckled. “Patrick, you wanna do the honors?”

“I’d love to,” Ninth grinned. The boy approached him, a sharp knife in hand. Ben braced himself for the attack, but it never happened.

Right then, rocks were thrown at Eighth and Ninth, some landing directly on their heads. Ninth dropped the knife, clutching at his head and rubbing it gently. “What the fuck?!” he exclaimed.

“We don’t have a lot of weapons!” Richie yelled, answering the question Ben hadn’t dared to ask. Ben laughed deeply, as if it were the funniest thing he’d ever heard. He wished he could join them, but the pain in his shoulder had only increased, and blood was spilling out of the wound like a water fountain.

The fight between them and Eighth and Ninth escalated. “Ben, are you okay!?” Beverly exclaimed. The concern in her voice was perplexing; she was never really like that with him.

“I-I don’t know,” he replied, slumping down to his knees. “It hurts… Bev, it hurts.”   


“I know,” she nodded. Her voice seemed choked, but as if noticing her weakness, she turned her head. She had seen enough.

Just then, all of their phones buzzed. Ben had an idea what it meant, but he didn’t have the energy to check, or do anything to change the future. He had done his part. He fully fell to the ground, his eyes closing. 

The others were still pelting Eighth and Ninth with rocks, which was still somewhat successful. As they were distracted, Beverly walked over to Ninth, a sort of rage consuming her. She knew it wasn’t a logical choice, but her emotions were driving her. Her arms wrapped around the boy’s neck, squeezing tightly.

All she could think about was Ben, who wasn’t even strong enough right now to pay attention to them. Ninth desperately tried to get her to let go, but she only squeezed tighter. Ben never deserved this, she thought to herself. She had to make this right, and to her, killing them was the only way to do it. 

Ninth felt so small in her grasp. His hands were bloody, after one of the rocks had hit them with a startlingly amount of force. He tried pulling her arms off from his neck, but it was in vain. Some of the blood from his hands transferred to her arms. 

Ninth’s breathing was becoming slower, and his face was turning blue. His body seemed to shake in her grasp, but Beverly could feel him weakening, and it brought a smile to her face. He let out one final gasp before going limp, causing her to let him go.

“HOLY SHIT!” Eddie yelled, having turned his head at the right moment to finally see what had happened. “SHE KILLED HIM!”   


The fighting seemed to stop, and everyone’s eyes turned to Beverly and Ninth’s dead body. Beverly was breathing quickly, with her actions slowly dawning on her. Blood was on her hands. And she didn’t even feel bad.

“YOU KILLED HIM!” Eighth roared. He was furious, and none of them dared to stop him as he ran over to her and stabbed her repeatedly with his knife. It was as though everyone was in shock, and their lack of action was going to kill her.

He stabbed her in the gut and the chest. In confidence that she was going to die from the blood loss, Eighth proceeded to run away, not even stopping to pay his respects to Ninth. It was clear in that moment that they were never really friends. People tend to find out a lot about themselves when confronted with death, and death had shown Eighth that he had to carry on, lest his determination and strength falter.

Beverly fell to her knees, placing her hands over the wound by her gut. There was so much blood… She felt a grim smile place itself on her face. Richie, Eddie, Bill, and Stan rushed over to her, knowing there wasn’t much they could do for her. Another fallen comrade that they had to accept they couldn’t help.

“Take me to him,” she requested, and the others instantly knew what she meant. They gently helped her to her feet, throwing their arms around her shoulder, keeping her up. Ben had collapsed, but the gentle rise and fall of his chest showed that he was still alive. Carefully, they led Beverly over to him, and placed her on the ground next to him.

The others had a feeling it was going to be a rather private moment, so they headed to the other side of the house.

“Ben,” she said. “I-I’m sorry.”

His eyes opened. “No, I’m sorry,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “Bev, you’re going to be okay.”

Beverly shook her head. “I won’t. And I had a funny feeling I wouldn’t survive that, but I did it anyway.” She laughed, but it was a rather pathetic sound. It was more of a wheeze, than anything else. “Doesn’t really sound like me, does it?”

Ben shook his head, his eyes wide. “I failed you, Bev. I didn’t protect you.” 

“You did protect me,” Beverly reassured him, sending him a tired smile. “You taught me so much. You taught me to be kind, and I think I… I think I love you.”

Ben had wanted to hear those words for a while now, but he never wanted to hear them in a situation like this. He wanted to be able to be with Beverly, showing her that the world was so much more than she thought it was. He wanted more chances to show her that the world wasn’t so cruel, but maybe it was, for giving him what he wanted in the way he never wanted it. “I love you too,” he said, and repeated it over and over.

He held her hand, and found himself repeating the words as she passed away. “Why?” he murmured to himself. He couldn’t quite fathom it. All he knew was that he felt a significant loss in his heart. He knew what he wanted to do.

Ben had known from the beginning he would never win the game, would never become God. He had met Beverly, and told himself that he was going to help her get that far, be her knight in shining armor. And she ended up being his, and he was going to return the favor.

He couldn’t do it now, but he swore to himself that he was going to get revenge on her killer. For now, he laid with her, waiting for the others to come back.

Soon, they did, approaching him with apologies. But they would never understand. 

“I loved her,” he muttered, as they helped him up. “I thought that would be enough.”

“There was nothing you could’ve done,” Eddie said, gently. “She’s a really determined girl.”

“And that’s why she should’ve won,” Ben replied. “In the world she would create, nobody would have to go through… what I just went through.”

The walk to the hospital was depressing. They had to leave Beverly’s body behind, knowing that the game didn’t really excuse them from the consequences of death that the real world presented. It had been so hard to leave her, and the walk back only allowed him to think more and more about what happened.

Life wasn’t fair, and Ben could only hope he could leave his mark on the world before he, too, met his demise.


	10. Skepticism and Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They bring Ben to a hospital to get his stab wound properly treated. Stan instills some doubts into Richie that make him reflect on if he's really in love with Eddie and if Eddie really deserves to be God. Through all of this, Ben plots his revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy! soo, things are spicing up. i would consider the next chapter to be the last slowish one, and from there we'll be getting to the real juicy stuff. i finally outlined what the epilogue is going to be, so stay tuned :P. i hope everyone is excited as i am. tyy for sticking around.

Richie didn’t really know what the fuck was going on.

Logically, they had to bring Ben to a hospital, but how were they going to explain that he got his injury? They couldn’t exactly explain that they were in a game that required murder in order to progress; it just sounded like bullshit. He couldn’t think of an excuse that made sense, so he figured they’d just have to lie and say they were just playing around and oops, Ben got stabbed!

Besides that, Richie was pretty damn sure that they had to do something to help him now, rather than later. “Don’t we need to get bandages or something?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Eddie answered, throwing a glance back at Ben, who was being accompanied by Bill and Stan, who were carefully guiding him along the way. “It’s actually worse that they didn’t leave the knife in… It would've stopped some of the blood flow.”

“You know a lot about stab wounds?” Richie questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s basic information, Richie,” Eddie snapped. “Anyway, we really should do something about it. I’ll go ask the others if we could stop off at the pharmacy to get some things.”

Eddie made his way over to Bill, Stan, and Ben. He told them that while going to the hospital is a good idea, they should also try to take care of the wound as much as they could right now. “I could go to the pharmacy and catch up with you guys,” he offered.

“I’ll c-come with you,” Bill offered. Eddie smiled at him, and the two quickly left, hurrying to the pharmacy.

Richie joined the others, taking over Bill’s spot as another helping hand for Ben. "So, Staniel," he drawled. "We should get to know each other better. What do you think?"

Stan sighed deeply with the tiredness of a middle-aged man. "Is that really necessary?"

"Well, no," Richie acknowledged. "But this is boring. And it's not like Ben could talk to me right now."

Stan threw a glance at Ben. He could tell the boy was just in agony, not only from the physical wound, but also from the heartbreak. "Lucky him," he muttered, envious that he didn't have to talk with Richie.

"Oh, come on!" Richie complained, his voice sounding exasperated. “There’s gotta be something you’d wanna talk about. How about Billiam? How long have you two been friends?”

“Billiam?” Stan questioned in a low voice, which indicated to Richie that he had hit the mark. “What kind of nickname is that?”

“An amazing one. Just tell me how you met!”

“It feels like I’ve always known him,” Stan said, tuning him out to look up at the sky. His grip on Ben was still tight, but it was clear that Richie had dragged his attention away from their wounded friend. That might’ve been a good thing; Eddie’s stressing out enough for all of them. “Have you ever had that feeling that you could be with someone everyday and you would still find comfort in their presence?”

“Yeah,” Richie replied, thinking of Eddie. At this point, they’ve spent most of their days together, and when they’re separated, Eddie always pops up in his mind. 

“It’s a normal story,” Stan said. “Our families were friends, so naturally their children would be friends. But it’s become much more than that. And… through everything, I know that he’s the best choice to become God.”

“I feel the same about Eddie,” he confessed. “He’s such a good person, and I just know that he would make all the right choices.”

“Do you _really_ know that?”

Richie stiffened at the tone of his voice. There was a sense of incredulity in his voice, and it added to the vibe that Stan was in disbelief. “What do you mean?” he asked, chuckling nervously.

“You’ve said before that you guys met when the game started,” Stan recalled. “You really think you know him well enough to believe that he’s worthy of becoming God?” 

“We’ve been through a lot!” Somehow, it seemed like Richie was desperately trying to convince him, but part of him knew he was also trying to convince himself. 

“I doubt that,” Stan replied. “What I think happened is you found a generally nice guy and you think that’s worthy enough. But it isn’t, and I would know.”

From there, Stan revealed a story about some events that took place roughly a month before the game started. Bill’s younger brother, Georgie, had passed away due to an accident, and Stan had been there through all of the grieving, the tears. It had impacted him personally too, as Georgie had often felt like his own little brother too. 

“You really learn about a person when you’ve seen them face death,” Stan concluded. “At least the deaths that count.”

It made him think back to when him and Eddie had witnessed Twelfth’s death. Twelfth had been a stranger, and her death had allowed the reality of their situation to sink in. But neither were constantly grieving over her. It was tragic, but they couldn’t grieve for the girl they had never known. And he knew it would be different in comparison to what Bill and Stan went through.

Stan stopped talking from that point on, and Richie made no attempt to change that. He felt ashamed, for Stan had unintentionally made him doubt everything he felt about Eddie.

_You found a generally nice guy and you think that’s worthy enough._

Richie had been pitying himself and consumed with loneliness before he and Eddie met. He had been so alone, so of course he would be so attached to the first person to give him the time of day. And it’s not like Eddie had much choice in the matter; there was the game that had forced them to become allies. If the game never happened, would they have even become friends?

They went to the same school for ages, but they never thought much about each other. But here they were now, best friends and probably the most important person in each other’s lives.

And it wasn’t enough. Everything they’ve been through together didn’t make Eddie deserving of becoming God, and neither did his… feelings. He was so infatuated with Eddie, but maybe it wasn’t really love. Maybe he’s mistaken love for what was just comfort. Maybe he was just infatuated with the idea of Eddie, with the idea of love.

They were just a couple of turns away from making it to the hospital when Bill and Eddie had caught up with them. In the end, the two didn’t find much that could help Ben, other than just some materials to help apply pressure to the wound. Bill handed it over to Stan, and the two took over on helping Ben out.

Eddie naturally stood beside Richie as they continued walking. “You’re pretty quiet,” he commented. “That’s not like you.”

“How would you know?” Richie replied, almost bitterly.

He sent him a weird look. “Are you okay, Rich?”

He paused. “I’m fine,” he said hesitantly. He didn’t want to worry Eddie, but he also wanted him to check in on him, to ask more. It’s what he would’ve done for Eddie.

“If you say so,” Eddie replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But you can always talk to me, you know? I’m here.”

While it was reassuring, it just reminded him of the game and how it wasn’t beneficial for them to be distant. Richie’s tired of thinking about the fucking game, and how it impacts them. Why can’t they just be normal sixteen year olds? Why can’t they just fall in love like normal teenagers?

“Thank you,” Richie said, avoiding eye contact. “But we should focus on Ben.”

The other teenager nodded. The rest of the walk was silent, and when they entered the hospital, a nurse immediately rushed over, noticing the deep wound in Ben’s shoulder. “We’ll take him from here,” the nurse said, another nurse appearing beside her. “What happened to him?”

Well, shit.

“We do-don’t know,” Bill quickly answered, after coming up with a seemingly appropriate lie. “We w-were gone for just a f-few minutes… And wh-when we came back…”

Richie guessed that the stuttering helped convince the nurses that it was the truth. “It’s okay,” the nurse said, reassuring him. “We’ll help your friend, but you guys will have to stay back here.”

And so they did. The chairs were uncomfortable to sit in for long periods of time, but Richie was just thankful Ben was going to get the medical attention he needed. "Who the fuck's going to pay the hospital bill?" Richie murmured.

The others heard him and realized that was a serious concern. "Maybe he's covered by his parents' insurance?" Stan suggested.

That wasn't something they could assume. Also, that wasn't something they'd asked Ben, considering he was pretty out of it throughout the whole walk. "Worse case scenario, we take Ben and run the hell out," Eddie said. "It's like, theft by not paying, but whatever."

"You're such a bad boy!" Richie teased, naturally falling back into their dynamic. It was easier that way, in a similar way to when he would cover up his loneliness by joking around. "I'm swooning!" He placed his hand by his temple and dramatically sighed.

"Shut the fuck up." Though Eddie did roll his eyes at his antics, there was also a smile creeping up on his face.

A while later, the nurse returned with Ben. Ben seemed to be in better shape, which was shown by the fact that he was conscious. "He had to get stitches," she explained. "And he's on a lot of pain meds."

She also explained how Ben should look after the stitches and probably treat them. Also, she recommended a lot of rest. Neither of her recommendations seemed viable, considering their situation. 

The world had started crumbling away. It was about halfway through their wait for Ben that they had noticed the white pockets of emptiness that appeared at the edges of the room. Deus' power was fading, and this world would soon be gone. And, soon, the game would be over with somebody crowned God.

Ben wouldn't likely completely heal from the stab wound, as their time was so limited. There was no time for rest, and they could tell Ben understood this.

Ben walked over to stand beside his friends. Stan whispered the plan in his ears.

The five of them ran out of the hospital before the nurse could even scream for them to stop. 

"That w-was crazy," Bill commented, panting along with the others. They had put some distance between them and the hospital, so they felt comfortable stopping.

"That won't be the last crime we commit," Richie joked, but it fell flat. It was hard to lift the mood when they had been reminded of their mortality and the game being close to finished.

It was getting dark out. They had to go back to their own homes, despite all of the craziness they experienced.

"See you tomorrow?" 

The question was directed at Ben, who was more of a lone wolf than he had ever been. Without Beverly, he was alone.

"Of course," he said, knowing it was a lie.

\---

Ben had thought it over what felt like millions of times. He wasn’t confident in his abilities, but he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to kill Eighth to have some revenge for him killing Beverly. Yet, he knew that it was really only an attempt to make himself feel better and cope with her loss. 

He knew he didn’t stand much of a chance by himself, but he couldn’t ask the others to come with. This was his own choice, and Ben felt like he had to be the one to take Eighth out.

When the others separated ways to go home, Ben stayed in place. Since Beverly was dead, his diary didn’t tell him information about her.

He pulled out his phone and read the entries, and the entries were like a trail of breadcrumbs that led directly to Eighth. Ben was sure that his diary was currently pointing out the location of Eighth’s home, but he knew he couldn’t kill him there. His family would get in the way, and Ben didn’t have the strength to deal with all of that.

In the morning, his diary would update him on Eighth’s location, and he would have to follow. There were many ways he could enact his revenge, but there was a desire deep down that wanted to see what a fair fight between him and Eighth would look like. And, there was also the desire to see him suffer.

Eighth never showed anyone mercy, so why should he?

So, while Ben was petrified, he found it to be one of the easiest decisions of his entire life. One would say that love could be a weakness, but his love for Beverly had only made him more determined. While he couldn’t protect her in life, he would in death. He’d make sure Eighth got what he deserved.


	11. Making Things Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After realizing that Ben has ran off to fight Eighth, the others are convinced they shouldn't help. Meanwhile, Ben locates Eighth and strikes up a proposal to have a fair fight, which includes not using any weapons. After Eighth tries to choke him out, he realizes he's in over his head and sends out an SOS to his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh, we're reaching the climax! fun stuff. thank you all for the support.

When they met up again the next day, Ben didn’t show up. Eddie and Richie’s diaries didn’t reveal much, but Bill’s diary told him all they needed to know. Ben was going to confront Eighth. However, the diary did not reveal what the outcome of the confrontation would be. 

“I think that means we should help him,” Eddie said. “I’d feel guilty if it turns out our help could’ve later prevented…” His voice trailed off, but it was clear to the others the thought he was trying to express. Richie nodded in agreement, knowing that it could be their chance to make up for not helping Audra. Nothing could completely make up for it, but here’s hoping. They’d been too scared to help Audra, but perhaps the familiarity of Ben could help them push through their fears.

“No,” Stan said, crossing his arms. “If he wants revenge so badly that he would face Eighth alone, then that’s his problem. He’s throwing his life away!”

“Stan,” Bill said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Richie saw a melancholic expression cross his face. “Think a-about Georgie.”

The two of them probably know a lot about wanting revenge, Richie thought to himself. Georgie’s death had been an accident, and that probably made it all the more difficult. If his death had been a murder, then there at least would’ve been someone to blame. There could’ve been a way for them to seek justice on Georgie’s behalf, through either the legal system or straight up hurting the one responsible. But the fact that it had been an accident, and one that had no guilty party, made it worse. It wasn’t fair.

He watched as the two friends exchanged meaningful eye contact, expressing thoughts without even communicating verbally. Richie used to think he had that kind of bond with Eddie, but Stan made him see through that facade. There wasn’t much that bonded him and Eddie together, other than having a terrible family life, which still wasn’t even the same.

He clenched his fist. Everything just reminded him of how desperate he was to be loved. Nothing’s changed in his life, and he had been a fool to think it had. 

“Why wasn’t it the same with Mike?” Stan questioned, narrowing his eyes. “You weren’t exactly opposed to abandoning him.”

“D-Don’t make it ou-out like it was easy!” Bill exclaimed. This was the angriest he’d ever seen them, and it was a reminder that even the closest of friends fight. “We would’ve d-died if w-we helped him.”

“How do you know this is any different? None of us have Dead End messages, and that’s because we stay behind and let Ben do what he wants.”

For a moment, Richie thought that was it. It was a rather convincing argument; he should’ve known that Eddie’s as stubborn as a mule and the reminder of their safety wouldn’t be enough to sway the boy’s beliefs. “The whole point of our diaries is that it gives us the option to change the future!” Eddie argued. “What’s the point of having them if we always just cower in the corner?”

It struck a nerve. Stan scowled, turning away from them. “If you guys wanna go after Ben, then fine. But I won’t be joining.”

Eddie turned to Bill with pleading eyes. “He h-has a point,” Bill acknowledged, and Eddie sighed. If Stan didn’t join, then Bill wouldn’t either. 

From there, it was pretty clear Eddie wasn’t going to leave. He wasn’t as careless as Ben, and knew that going alone was guaranteeing his fate. Richie could tell that he was really irritated. Normally, he’d try to comfort him, but he still felt upset due to the realization he had earlier. 

Bill and Stan split off from them after they collectively decided that there was no need to stay together in the group. They just needed to get into pairs, like the way it had been before. Richie tried to enjoy his time with Eddie, but his thoughts kept drifting.

They went to the arcade, instantly finding their way over to the Mortal Kombat machine. “This feels weird,” Eddie admitted. 

“You’re not used to losing?” Richie chuckled, preparing for the next match to start. But he could tell that the other boy was being serious. Sometimes, he got a bit tired of it. There had to be a time for them to be normal, to let go of everything. With now being a safe time to do it, Richie had hoped he could at least get Eddie to focus on the arcade game and not the other game they’re playing.

“I guess not,” Eddie replied. 

“But you’ve played before.”

“Only really against you,” he admitted. “And maybe the CPU’s, a few times.”

“When you put it like that,” Richie said, “you sound like a loser.”

“You’re the loser!” 

The two shared a laugh, and he felt relieved. “I didn’t have many friends either,” Richie admitted, knowing that was the gist of what Eddie revealed a moment ago. “And the few I did… None of my friendships were like this.”

And he doesn’t really know how to explain it. He was just attracted to him like a moth to a flame, even when it came to his jokes. When he told jokes, he never had specific targets. He just wanted someone to laugh with him, or even just at him. But now he finds himself making jokes that he thinks Eddie would laugh at, even when it would confuse the others. And he would wait for Eddie’s sharp laughter, when he wasn’t expecting it to actually be funny, or the slap to his shoulder when it wasn’t in good taste. 

It just feels right.

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” Eddie said, after a moment. “I feel like I could tell you anything.”

Richie wanted to agree, but then he thought about the one thing he can’t tell him.  _ I love you.  _ It’s not even that he’s afraid of rejection; it’s just not the right time to say it. Both of them know there’s not the time for anything like that. 

There’s a lump in his throat. “Well, when you put it like that…” he said, reverting back to a joke. “I guess I should tell you… I fucked your mom.”

Eddie’s face scrunched up, and he went a little red. “That’s just fucking gross, man!” He slapped his shoulder. “I don’t wanna think about that!”   


Then they burst out, laughing with no care in the world. He felt the familiar feeling of fondness and wondered that maybe it’s possible to express his feelings without needing to say it. There doesn’t need to be a label, and he was sure Eddie knew how he felt, to an extent. 

They kept playing in the arcade for hours, making memories that could last a lifetime. Or, at least the rest of their lives.

\---

On the other hand, Ben was straight up not having a good time.

He’s only minutes away from Eighth now, and it only now occurred to him the severity of his mistake. He felt like he wasn’t even walking straight, and the relief the pain medication had given him had faded away. There’s only one saving grace he has for the upcoming fight: it seemed like Eighth wasn’t the smartest crayon in the box. 

Logically, Eighth could easily throw another knife into his shoulder and finish him off. However, Ben’s learned quite a bit of manipulation from Beverly, and he’s sure he could convince him to fight him fairly.

The two made eye contact. “Back for more?” Eighth grinned. 

“Let’s make this fair,” Ben proposed. “Just you against me, and no weapons.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” the other diary owner questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Your friends are probably going to join in!”

Ben could see that he was paranoid. That was to be expected, as he couldn’t take advantage of Ninth’s tracking diary, which would’ve told him if the others were nearby. “They’re nowhere near me,” he promised. “If you’re that worried about it, just finish me off quickly.”

He didn’t want to encourage him, but he needed this to be as fair as possible. And he expected Eighth to believe that he could easily overpower Ben. He might be able to, but Ben’s need for vengeance outweighs his strength. 

“Fine,” Eighth said. Then, he promptly emptied his pockets, throwing out a couple knives. “Empty out yours.”

Ben complied, and then the two were in a standoff. But it only lasted for a mere moment, as Eighth took the initiative to run towards Ben and throw a punch. Ben caught his fist and threw him to the ground. For a while, the fight was just an exchange of punches between the two of them, with some occasional dodging and counters.

It seemed as though Eighth suddenly had the realization that he also possessed legs, for he used his leg to sweep his feet down. Ben was on the ground now, more vulnerable than he had ever been in the fight. He felt a throbbing pain in one of his ankles. Before he could even attempt to get up, Ben felt Eighth’s hands wrap around his throat, and the boy brought him up into the air.

“It’s over,” Eighth declared, squeezing his hands tighter around his neck. There was an almost animalistic glint in his eyes, and Ben realized Eighth got satisfaction from this. At first, he wondered if it was his own kind of revenge, as this method was also used to kill his friend, but he doubted it.

Ben felt his throat start to close up. He started wheezing, desperate for air. The pressure seemed to increase, and the pain was overwhelming. He still felt the pain from the stab wound, as the meds had worn off, and now he’s being suffocated. He told himself it can’t end like this. What was the point of all of this, if he couldn’t get himself out of precarious situations such as this?

He saw dots in his vision, and he knew he had to act now. He brought his leg up, and kneed him hard in the crotch. Eighth swore and released him to the ground. Ben shakily stood up and took deep breaths for air. 

He couldn’t do this by himself. Eighth was currently preoccupied with his pain, so Ben took out his phone and went through his contacts. He found the other diary owner’s numbers and put them all in a group chat and sent a simple message.

_ SOS!! I CAN’T BEAT HIM! _

After sending the text, he sent his location. There was no excuse now. They would know where they are. They have to help me, Ben thought to himself. They wouldn’t dare abandon him!

He didn’t know them well, but he was inclined to believe that they were good people. While it contradicted the agreement with Eighth, he knew that getting them into the fight was the only one he’d realistically get Eighth to die. And it was to their benefit, as well. If they managed to help Ben get rid of Eighth, then he’d willingly sacrifice himself and let them fight it out.

The hope he felt started to vanish slightly when he saw Eighth rise to his feet, having gotten over the pain. He needed time, and he knew just continuing to fight wouldn’t exactly help him. He felt exhaustion creeping up on him, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do the same trick if Eighth started to choke him again.

So, Ben did what he could with his limited options. He stretched for a moment before running off. Eighth started chasing after him, shouting at him to accept his demise. “You’re dead meat!” he screamed. “YOU CAN’T RUN FOREVER!”

He knew that. He also knew he needed to stay around in the general vicinity so the others could catch up to them. Eighth could easily figure out the pattern in which he was running and cut him off. There were so many possibilities, and there were so many ways he could die. In fact, he had a feeling he would die. 

His diary had told him he had reached a Dead End, and while he was hopeful that the others could take Eighth out, he wasn’t ignorant to the possibility that both of them would end up dying.

It’ll all be worth it as long as he can guarantee Eighth won’t win.


	12. Maybe We're All Terrible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After receiving Ben's SOS message, the others join it, but it's all in vain. The final battle begins, and there's more causalities while Eddie and Richie wonder if it's the game that's really making them act like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyo welcome back!  
> hows it hanging?

Upon receiving the SOS message from Ben, the others realized they couldn’t rationalize leaving him to die. Besides, the message served as a warning that the ending was coming. All the remaining diary owners would be in the same place, and there’d most likely be the final fight.

The location Ben sent wasn’t very far away, but they all felt uneasy. The longer they took to get there, the less chance Ben would have against Eighth. 

It only took about ten minutes to get there, but it was too late. As they came onto the scene, they saw Eighth on top of him, the punches landing on what appeared as a motionless body. Ben posed no resistance, and the frantic way Eighth was attacking him showed his eagerness for his death.

“Stop!” Eddie yelled. “He’s already dead!”

The yell captured Eighth’s attention. Eighth paused before carefully getting off Ben, examining him. The others weren’t close enough to really see, but it was obvious to them all that Ben had died. 

“I knew it wasn’t really… going to be fair,” Eighth spoke, bringing his gaze over to them. “He called you guys over, didn’t he?” 

There was a sense of madness in him. Richie wasn’t a good judge of character in terms of saneness, but he felt like it’s fair to believe that everything’s caught up to Eighth. Eighth had assisted in the killings of six people, and Richie could no longer pretend that it was just due to circumstance.

Even in a game like this, there were humane options. Deus had explained early on that if their diaries are destroyed, they will die. Eighth and Ninth could’ve easily gone after people’s diaries instead of them, but part of them got off on it. Power corrupted them, and they hadn’t even really had much power to begin with. 

He began to wonder what it would be like for Eighth to become God. He thought back to Twelfth’s death, and how him and Ninth had decided to kill her just because she was annoying them. Imagining a person like him in power felt tortuous; there had to be someone who was worthy of such a position. Unconsciously, his eyes drifted towards Eddie.

Eddie had cared a lot when Twelfth died. It still hung heavy on him. 

“He knew he was going to die,” Stan replied, watching Eighth carefully. “At least he faced you like a man.”

Eighth let out a deep laugh, his shoulders shaking. “A man?” he smirked. “That’s exactly why he can’t be God. God wouldn’t make stupid decisions like that.”

“Your buddy Ninth made stupid decisions too,” Eddie snapped. “Like befriending you. Where did that get him, exactly?”

Richie clapped his shoulder, almost like reprimanding him for the comment, even though it did ring true. “Why would you say that?!” he whispered to him.

But he didn’t really need an answer. Obviously Eddie would be touchy towards Ben’s death, and Eighth’s comment was unnecessary. 

Eighth straightened up and dropped his hands to his sides. “I’m not going to make it fair for you,” he spat. “Since you guys are going to all attack me.”

He pulled out some knives, grinning madly to himself. “We need a time out!” Richie shouted, and for some reason the boy granted them it. Richie supposed it was pride. He thought himself to be untouchable, despite the clear disadvantage. 

“What’s the plan?” Richie asked.

“Attack him all at the same time,” Stan suggested. “If someone just holds him down, we could probably get rid of him.”

Eddie tensed up. “Uh, can’t we just aim for his phone?” There was a nervous smile on his face as he glanced between Stan and Bill. Perhaps he knew that Richie would automatically agree to his idea, as he didn’t look at him for confirmation. 

“There’s no pl-place for mercy,” Bill said. All four boys knew that destroying his phone was the humane but unrealistic option. And the game has taught them that there’s no room to be humane. Winning this game, and becoming God, means shedding every piece of their humanity. It means letting go of every moral objection they have.

Though they don’t discuss it more, they know what to do. One could argue it was because the bond they’ve developed through their time together allowed them access to each other’s minds, but it really boiled down to the feral, survival instincts they all shared.

Their instincts could lead them on the right path, but becoming God means letting go of their fears and doing what has to be done.

The group turned back to face Eighth, who had developed a restless expression. One hand loosely clutched a knife while the fingers on his other hand were twitching. “Are you ready?” he asked.

They nodded, and after an uncomfortable moment where they all stood still and felt the adrenaline start running through their veins, Eighth made his first move. He ran up to the first boy he could get his hands on, which panned to be Stan. He made a motion as if to jab him with his knife, but Stan and Bill quickly grabbed a hold of his arms and forcefully moved them so his weapon couldn’t reach them.

Eddie and Richie quickly joined in as well, also grabbing a hold of his arms. They were holding onto his arms tightly, holding on for dear life. 

Eighth growled in frustration. Maybe it was a lapse of judgement for them to think that they had this under control, for Eighth quickly drew his head back and slammed it on Bill and Stan’s hands, which released one hand for him to work with. He elbowed Eddie and Richie’s hands as well, a cruel smirk on his face as he did so.

“FIGHT ME!” he screamed. “LET GO AND FIGHT ME!”

His taunting led the boys to throw a flurry of punches and kicks, some more successful than the others. There was a sense of fury that led Richie, and it seemed to cloud his judgement. Many of his attacks missed, for he was too frantic to pay attention to where each hit was landing. Each of the boys had this same predicament, and sometimes they would end up hitting each other.

Richie realized this wasn’t really going anywhere. Eighth would groan in pain, maybe clutch at where a particularly nasty punch landed, but otherwise showed no sign of slowing down. Pain doesn’t immobilize a beast. Only death would.

Richie paused for a moment, trying to get his energy back. He panted heavily, and looked at Eddie, who was in a similar position. Eddie’s breathing was a lot heavier, and he instantly remembered why.  _ Oh shit, he has asthma.  _

While the boy was exhausted, Richie was sure the panic had been the stronger factor. “Eds, where’s your inhaler?!” 

All thoughts of the fight drifted away from his mind. He could vaguely hear Eighth, Bill, and Stan making noises of pain, but it all faded away when he focused on his friend. 

Eddie gestured towards his pocket, and Richie took it out and handed it to him. Eddie used the inhaler, and Richie felt some of the tension leave his body as he basically watched him recover. But that feeling of relief didn’t last long.

A scream sounded through the air. The scream was desperate, like the kind where it sounds like a plea for help. And when he turned his head, he saw it all.

Eighth had landed a hit, stabbing Stan in the chest. He saw all the thick blood start to leave from the wound and coated the weapon. “Well, wasn’t that cute?” Eighth cooed, harshly pulling his knife out from his chest. “What a sweet friend you are.”

Richie didn’t even need to look at Bill to figure out what happened. Stan took the hit for his friend, because of course he would. He showed a devotion to Bill that Richie found himself showing to Eddie. It was only logical, really, for Stan to go with his emotions.

Bill grabbed his friend, gently pulling him to the ground. His grieving wasn’t as loud as expected. Sometimes, grieving meant pulling your friend’s face towards yours, your hand on their cheek, pleading in quiet whispers for them to stay alive. 

Richie wondered if Bill saw this coming, if he knew Stan would make a sacrifice like that for him. Perhaps he did, and that’s why he didn’t have a loud reaction.

Bill tried to comfort his friend, and his shoulders started to shake as he broke down crying. It was all too intimate a moment for what was a battle to the death, but Richie knew Eighth didn’t care.

Eighth was getting something out of it, feeling a sadistic joy in watching Bill grieve. Humans are so reliant on their emotions that it leaves them vulnerable. If Eighth were a being composed of only logical thoughts, he would take this chance to finish off Eddie and Richie, who were also pointedly watching Bill and Stan. But he wasn’t, and the battle seemed to pause as Stan spent his last few moments alive.

“Win this for me,” Stan pleaded, his voice weak. His words were only meant for Bill. “I know… you can do it.”

Bill started nodding, almost frantically. He promised he would, and Richie’s fists clenched by his side. 

Death is a very compelling motivator. While there may have been hesitations before, Richie knew Bill would be full of the rage necessary to kill. As Eighth said, he would be ready to let go. It’s not like there was anything left for Bill.

So, the others watched as Stan finally went limp, his eyes closing shut for the last time. Bill took a shuddering breath, allowing his friend to rest on the ground. He stood up, a stern glare forming on his face.

“Let’s play.”

And Eighth smiled, having finally gotten what he wanted. “Give me all you got!” he screamed, gesturing with his hands for Bill to come closer. “Show me your hatred!”

Eddie and Richie could only watch as they began to fight.

“It’s so… weird,” Eddie said, biting his lip. “It’s all for the game, but it starts to become so real. And then you wonder if these people were always capable of these terrible things.”

“Eighth and Ninth were the only horrible ones,” Richie argued. “Beverly only killed for revenge. Is that so wrong?”

“I didn’t mean that. Death is not the only terrible thing. Don’t you remember what we did to Twelfth, and what Bill and Stan did to Sixth?”

Abandonment. That’s what he meant. The fact that they had unconsciously decided that their lives held more meaning than others. Survival instincts only go so far before you just completely get rid of your morals.

Prior to the game, Richie never would’ve thought he’d just stand by and watch people die in front of him. He would’ve done something about it, even if that meant just calling for help. 

“I don’t think you can play this game and be good,” Richie said. “Maybe nobody’s as good as they believe.”

“Maybe,” Eddie considered. “But it does make me wonder if it’s just the game making us act like this. Or, does the game just show who we really are, and all the choices we’re ashamed to admit we would make?”

He thought about it more as he watched Bill and Eighth fight. There was a reason he wasn’t stepping in to help Bill out, and it’s not because of Bill’s own feelings towards the matter.

It’s because he’s terrible. And maybe Eddie is too. 

Then again, God is too, so maybe everything’s working out after all.


	13. It's Just Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill finishes off Eighth, and Eddie and Richie finish him off, leaving just the two of them left. Richie proceeds with his initial plan, in the event that it's just them left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyy everyone! so all we've got is the epilogue. congrats to the winner of the game. i doubt it's a surprise but i hope you've enjoyed the journey that got us here. stay tuned!

Bill’s fight with Eighth ended up being more peaceful than most of the others. Bill, having been fueled with enough rage and adrenaline to make up the difference between their strengths, managed to beat Eighth until he was unconscious. For just a moment, he hesitated, panting heavily. 

He was making a decision. Eighth wasn’t dead yet, and he had the perfect opportunity to finish him off.

Richie and Eddie were rendered speechless. Part of them still couldn’t believe that Bill had actually beat him. They wanted to offer support, but they weren’t sure if it would really be appreciated. 

Bill grabbed Eighth’s phone from one of his front pockets, his hand trembling as he pulled the phone closer to his face. 

“He’s going to break it,” Eddie murmured. “It’s an act of mercy.”

“I don’t think so,” Richie argued, keeping his voice down so the conversation would be just between them. “It’s just to preserve strength. He’s got to deal with us next, remember?” 

Bill crushed the phone in his hands, destroying it. Eighth’s body started to vanish, slowly contorting before disappearing into thin air. It was as if he never existed. He was just gone, leaving the three of them left.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It was disturbing to just see Eighth fade away from existence, but at least it wasn’t gruesome. They’d seen enough death for one lifetime.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked gently. “Um, that was rough…”

“Another one bites the dust,” Richie joked. However, knowing that it wasn’t really the place for it, he quickly attempted to ease the mood and comfort him a little. “First Stan and now Eighth. At least you can rest a bit easier, knowing that you got revenge.”

Bill turned around to face them, and Richie was taken aback by the emptiness in his eyes. He took in the rest of his facial features, such as the eyebags and the gritting of his teeth. He observed all of his anger before the boy properly expressed it, and he knew it was directed at him now. “Shut the fuck up,” he said, but his voice cracked. It sounded more like a plea than a demand.

“I’m sorry,” Richie said, because there was nothing else to say. “I thought it would… lift your mood up.”

“Maybe that’d work if your joke was fucking funny,” Bill jeered. “Besides… All that’s left is for us to fight.”

And they did. Eddie and Richie were never particularly skilled with hand to hand combat, but it was easy to evade attacks from an exhausted opponent. When they finally got Bill flat on the ground, their bodies crowding him, they could tell he was giving up. He was too weak and his body was giving up on him as well. “Can you guys promise me something?” he pleaded.

“Yes,” Eddie answered. He bowed his head, indicating his sorrow. “We were friends. I know things were weird, but I think our group… We would’ve been the best of friends.”

“Yeah,” Richie replied, thinking about what that world could’ve been like. They all lived in the same town, and though they were all close to finishing school and getting the fuck out of Derry, he imagined that they would’ve stayed in touch. Distance wouldn’t separate a friendship as strong as theirs. They could’ve supported each other, laughed at each other’s jokes. “I don’t regret anything,” he said wistfully. 

How could he? Ironically, this whole game had given him some of the best moments in his entire life. In another world, he could’ve had so many more amazing moments with an amazing group of friends. He felt a pang in his heart, longing for that other world. 

“Whoever becomes God between the two of you…” Bill paused, as if considering his words. “Just make a better world. Sometimes, it was just so hard to pretend everything was fine.”

That’s what they all had been doing. Richie had been pretending that the lack of support from his parents didn’t affect him, didn’t hurt him. He pretended that he was fine, despite all of that. But meeting Eddie, befriending him, and even falling in love with him, had shown him that those feelings were all he had ever wanted. He wanted to be understood, and if this was his last day alive, he would be happy knowing that someone else had carried the burden of understanding.

Bill’s last words were reflecting on his brother and his friend. The loss of his brother had, understandably, tore his world apart. “I think I’ve made them proud,” he said. Then he chuckled weakly. “I guess all of this is fine. I’ll be with them now.”

And that was it. After he said that, they saw the life leave his eyes. Richie bent down, closing his eyes. It was the least that he could do for him, since he wasn’t going to fulfill his other request.

“It’s just us,” Eddie said.

“Indeed,” Richie replied. He carefully walked through the grass, approaching Eighth’s dead body. Right next to his hand was the knife he had been using. The knife was coated in Stan’s blood, and if he had to guess, maybe some of Bill’s. Richie’s sure Eighth might have cut Bill with it at least once. 

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked as he picked up the knife. Despite the situation, Eddie’s voice was fairly calm. But then again, what could surprise him at this point?

“It’s just us,” Richie repeated. Everything played out in his mind, and he was thoroughly satisfied with the results, even though he was likely going to traumatize Eddie. (What kind of God is traumatized, though?)

And before Eddie could say anything else, Richie took the knife and made a quick slash by his own throat, feeling the knife press past his skin. It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would, but he supposed it was easier to handle when his attention was elsewhere. “NO!” Eddie cried, his face distraught as he took in the sight of him, quickly losing blood. “Why… why would you do that?”

And Richie laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. It sounded like a wheeze, like the laugh was being torn out of his throat. “I didn’t want you to have to kill me,” he said.

“BUT WHY DIDN’T YOU KILL ME?”

“I knew early on… I’d never be able to do that.” Richie was smiling now. Tears were flowing down Eddie’s cheeks, and he felt the other boy pick his head up, resting it on his own lap. “I… I love you.”

Eddie didn’t freeze, feeling shocked. Eddie didn’t feel surprised, and his brown eyes didn’t widen into saucers. And his face certainly didn’t go red in anger. Instead, he simply nodded, his lower lip wobbling as a cry left his mouth. “I know,” he shakily said, and his hands went to gently play with Richie’s hair. “I know.”

And in those words he said  _ I love you too.  _ He said  _ It’s always been this way.  _ Though Richie may have wished for him to say that out loud, he thought maybe it’d make it worse for him. Richie wasn’t the one who was going to dwell on these words; soon, he would be gone, and he wouldn’t feel, hear, or even think. 

But Eddie was going to dwell on those words forever. He figured that the boy would unfortunately have a lot of time to spend reliving everything in his head.

Maybe leaving him to deal with all of that would be his own regret. Stan had always been honest with Bill that he was rooting for him to become God. Maybe if Richie had told Eddie how he felt, how he was just going to protect him until he could win, the boy wouldn’t be as hurt. He would’ve had time to process it all, instead of believing that the two would have a fair fight.

But the idea of having a fair fight at the end was really thrown away as soon as Richie realized his feelings for Eddie. 

“It’s okay,” he said, trying desperately to comfort him. “I’m fine with all of this.”

“I am too,” Eddie whispered. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

The two silently thought about everything that had never been. Richie was really liking the other world in his head where the two got to properly be in love. Before he lost himself in that dream world, he realized there was still time. They could both pretend, just for a little bit longer.

And Eddie quickly came to the same conclusion, gently bringing his head down and bringing their lips together. The kiss was short but heartfelt, and Richie felt butterflies in his stomach. When they pulled apart, a small smile lingered on his face. He couldn’t believe that he was able to feel like this, even though he’s slowly dying.

Silence filled the air as Eddie continued playing with his hair, sniffling. For his last few minutes alive, he was in Eddie’s arms. It was almost tragic that this was the closest they’d ever been, but death tends to bring emotions out of people, positive and negative.

When he felt himself slipping away, he thought about how he used to comfort himself back before he met Eddie. He used humor to cheer himself up, and all things considering, it was fitting. He thought of his diary, where he had written down jokes in an attempt to keep the feeling with him for longer. 

“Hey, Eds.” 

“Yes?” His voice was quiet, like they were about to share a secret. 

“You don’t need to feel bad about this,” he said, gesturing towards his wound. Even moving his hands felt weird at this point. It didn’t feel like his own hand, and he was beginning to feel distant from his own body. “Doesn’t hurt much, you see. It hurt more when I fell for you.”

Sue him for wanting to be cheesy. 

Like he hoped, Eddie laughed. He could tell the boy didn’t want to laugh right now, but it was the least he could do. 

The last thing he saw before everything went black was him laughing. That was good enough for him.

\---

Moments after Richie passed away, a figure stood beside Eddie, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Congratulations, Second! You’ve won, and you’ve become God.”

He didn’t feel like a God, nor even a winner. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m Mur Mur,” she said. “I was almost like Deus’ assistant. And now that you’ve become God, I’ll be yours too. What would you like to do?”

Eddie didn’t want to do anything at all. 


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie grieves for years before he actually decides to remake the world as God. His assistant, Mur Mur, gives him a couple of options that make him reflect on the events of the games and his relationship with Richie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished! I'd like to thank all of the people who've read this fic, which had just started out as a cool crossover! I'm glad people were interested in it.
> 
> The end of this fic is a bit open-ended, so you can technically decide for yourself what Eddie ended up doing. Either version is acceptable.
> 
> :D

“Eddie, are you almost done moping yet?” Mur Mur whined, throwing another book she had summoned to the abyss. “It’s been years!”

He scoffed. “You love romance novels so much and yet you still can’t comprehend my feelings. Typical.”

“Those feelings are beyond you now,” she reminded him. “You’re God, remember? And you’re supposed to be remaking the world, not just sitting there!”

“It’s not like I deserved it. I didn’t do anything.”

Mur Mur was right; he was moping. And this moping allowed him to reflect over everything that happened during the game. He never even killed anyone, so he found it hard to believe that he was meant for this role.

Mur Mur sighed, knowing she’d have to explain it again. “As soon as you joined that alliance with First, you were on the path to win. Fate is predetermined, and none of the diary owners utilized their abilities enough for fate to go off course.”

And of course he knew this. Being God meant he was all-knowing, so he was able to look at it from the perspective Deus and Mur Mur had. “What was so important about that alliance?” 

He knew, but he wanted her to say it.

“Because joining the alliance meant First would fall in love with you,” she explained, her voice turning fond. “And when he fell in love with you, that meant he would help you reach the end and take himself out.”

Mur Mur loved their story, had shown her excitement back when they first met. She thought it was romantic, and Eddie couldn’t disagree. But there was nothing romantic about the state Richie’s death left him in; he was an empty shell, and certainly not a God. He was nothing compared to Deus.

After he won and learned about their fate, he wondered what would’ve happened if he just killed Richie instead of offering that alliance. Would he have even been successful? Chances are, he would’ve wimped out. Or, what if he just never confronted Richie?

Who would’ve become God, then? 

He sighed to himself, knowing that he had been spent too long thinking about the possibilities. It was time for him to perform his duties. “What are your recommendations?” he asked. “How should I remake the world?”

Understanding his sorrow, she offered a solution that would allow him to leap back in time to be with Richie, creating a separate second world. However, the games would occur again, and he would also have to kill his original self to join this world. Overall, it seemed very problematic.

“So, it’s just a repeat, basically,” he said. “Why would I want to go through all of that again?”

“Well, you’d see Richie again,” she answered, offering him a smile. “He wouldn’t know anything, but it would be the same boy you fell in love with. Isn’t that what you want? Besides, then you could allow someone else to win this time, ultimately giving up your role as God.”

The second part made it a tempting offer. He could make the alliance, but then perhaps allow himself to die sometime during their final altercation with Eighth. He closed his eyes, imagining how that would work out.

_ Ben dies. Stan dies. Bill and Eighth fight, this time Bill gets killed. It would be us against Eighth. Eighth would have to kill us both, as Richie wouldn’t allow himself to win and I wouldn’t allow myself to win.  _

That’s not ideal. If he doesn’t see himself worthy as God, then there’s no way in hell that Eighth’s worthy. He imagined another scenario.

_ Ben dies. Stan dies. I get involved with the fight, thus forcing Richie to join and possibly try to help me. Richie dies to protect me, and Bill and I take out Eighth. Then, I allow Bill to finish me off. _

Maybe that was a good option. Bill definitely had the ambition to become God, especially after Stan’s death. Through the game, he got the impression that he was at least a decent person, so maybe he should go with this… Maybe he should just go back in time and be with Richie again. Go through it all again just so he could secure them dying together and allowing Bill to take over his position.

Eddie then pondered if this was ethical. Then again, ethics were more of a human thing… 

“You said I’d have to kill my original self?”

“Yes,” Mur Mur answered. “Or else there’d be a paradox, and those are just too messy.” 

And the desire within him was not innocent. The desire was selfish, and he pressed a hand to his heart, wondering if he was going to give in. Is dying beside his love worth all the carnage? Are his desires ultimately worth more than the others? Is he willing to let the ones he barely knew, and the ones he regarded as friends, go through pain once again? 

_ “You really learn about a person when you’ve seen them face death. At least the deaths that count.” _

It was only now he understood the depth of Stan’s words. The words weren’t directed at him when he said it, but it applies now. When he was faced with Richie’s death, he grieved and accomplished nothing. And now that he’s past the grieving and onto action, his entire being is telling him to just restart the game and take the easy way out. Because that’s what this is.

“There’s another way, isn’t there?” 

His assistant began to tell him about reincarnation. It wasn’t a new idea to him, but the application was of course different, since he would be the one controlling it. “You can make almost a copy of your world,” she offered. “There wouldn’t have to be a game, and you could just… change the people you knew.”

Change them?

At first, he took this to mean their flaws. While he could think of a few, he thought about some of the diary owners he never knew well, like Sixth, Tenth, and Eleventh. How could he be the one to decide how they’d change?

But then he realized he could just change their fates. He could make everything better for them, allow them to lead the happy lives that they always wanted. 

Beverly could have a better father, and never go through all the things she went through. Such a small change like that could help her find happiness within the world. She wouldn’t have to seek power to achieve her goals. And she could find love with Ben, the two of them getting their happily ever after. 

Bill’s brother, Georgie, could live a much longer life. Bill would never have to go through that loss, until he was ready for it later in life. Him and Stan could have happier lives. Mike could eventually meet them, forging the friendship that would go beyond what it was during the game. 

He could give the other diary owners better lives as well. He could make minor changes, like making it so their paths crossed earlier so they could become friends. Though he had a negative perception of both Eighth and Ninth, he could no longer blame them for the murders they committed. He’d seen everything they went through. He no longer felt bitter. He wasn’t going to take anything out on their reincarnations, so he could find a way to make their lives better as well.

And all that was left was Richie.

He could provide him a better family life, including attentive parents. But there would be a void in Richie’s life, if he was selfish enough to believe that his mere presence, or rather the lack thereof, offsets the boy’s entire life. 

“Would I have a reincarnation?” Eddie carefully asked. 

“You could,” Mur Mur said. “I assume you want a happy ending, right?”

Eddie merely hummed, still lost in thought. Her agreement only gave him more questions.

So their reincarnations could be in love. They could get the lives that him and Richie never had. Was it wrong for him to feel upset? He wanted to pretend that he was fully immersed as a God, no longer feeling anything other than nostalgia, but the loss still stung. It wasn’t even just the death he was mourning. He was mourning the way their lives had been destroyed, becoming poisonous.

“Is it possible for me to take over my reincarnation’s life? You know, just like the other option you proposed.”

“Yes,” she said. “But is this what you really want? These kinds of decisions are hard to take back.”

Before he could answer, not that he really had one prepared or anything, she vanished to another side of the abyss. Turns out, a whole area of darkness could give someone a lot of privacy. The two of them knew that this was going to be basically his final decision, so she left him to think. And if he had any more questions, or was ready to answer, he could summon her.

It was hard to imagine what Richie’s reincarnation would be like. He wanted to believe that he would be like a clone, but it’s likely that he’d be completely different. Having a caring family could even change his humor, since all of the joking around was really just a coping mechanism. Eddie didn’t admit it, but he did like his jokes. Most of them were crude, but they often lifted the mood.

Then he thought over some of the good memories they had together, like back when Richie hot-wired a car so they could drive away. He thought of the times they played games in the arcade, and the way their fingers would brush against each other as they played against each other. He thought about how the butterflies in his stomach distracted him from the game. And he thought about the times they went to that same diner.

In another world, all of those adventures could’ve been dates. They could have so many happy memories. 

But was that right?

Shortly after, he came to a decision. “Mur Mur,” he called out, bringing her presence by his side. 

It seemed as though she knew before he even had the words, and she nodded.

\---

_ IN ANOTHER WORLD _

“I finished my homework!” Richie exclaimed proudly, holding up the paper to his mother.   
  
“That’s great, dear,” she smiled. “Since you’re done now, you can go outside. I know you’ve been wanting to go to the arcade for days now.”

“Yes!” he cheered, a grin forming as he threw his fist into the air, celebrating. “How long can I stay out?”   


“Come home around dinner time,” she said, gesturing towards the kitchen. “You know your father likes it when we all eat together and talk about our days.”

All of this was a common occurrence in the Tozier household, but he liked being reminded of it. He knew the rules, but knowing that she cared about him made his heart feel warm. It was weird to him how it could still affect him like that, since it’s always been this way, but he didn’t dare question it.

So, then, the boy rode his bike out to the arcade, finding himself drawn to the Mortal Kombat machine. He often played the same game, and felt the same level of enjoyment each time. After just one round of the game, he heard someone clear their throat. “Do you mind if I play with you?”

He turned his head to look at the boy, noting that he looked familiar. Maybe he had seen him around his school, probably by passing him in the halls. The boy’s smile stuck out to him as friendly. “Sure!” he said, smiling in return. “Hey, have we met before?”

Something flashed in the boy’s eyes, but he couldn’t interpret what it meant. Richie decided it wasn’t really important.

“Maybe,” the boy shrugged. “You might know me as Kaspbrak, but you can call me Eddie, actually. It feels like I’m in trouble when people call me Kaspbrak.” 

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. I’m Richie.”

The two of them played Mortal Kombat for a while, and Richie knew, by the time it was dark outside, that him and Eddie would be seeing each other a lot more often.

And later, he would find out that he found a lot more than a friend that day at the arcade. There were times as though he felt like he knew Eddie more than he knew himself, but the thought didn’t scare him much. 

He was perfectly happy with this turn of events, and Eddie was too.


End file.
